Song To The Beloved

When I am with my self, I miss you.
When I am with you, I am you.

You bestow abundance to life,
Putting to rest any quest for meaning.

Those who seek you don’t understand,
Where could you possibly hide?

In your presence the mind surrenders,
Collapsing into its own nouminous origin.

You yourself alone exists,
Forever perceiving yourself by yourself.

Being alone you are nothing containing everything,
You are the question and the answer.

Praising you I constantly praise myself,
Bridging the gap between inner and outer.

To whom ever dares to call out to you for no reward,
You indiscriminately distribute the grace of the heaven’s.

Although we could never abandon each other,
Beloved singularity, I will keep singing my song to you.



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