THE FACE OF GOD

Years of longing
Studying masters and Saints
Reading Arjuna’s shattering in the glare
Of Krishna’s unveiling
Truth’s raw form so glorious and terrible
The epic warrior begged
Quaking
To have his mundane sight restored
So like any desperate seeker would
I did archaeology on my soul
Shoveling and scrounging through
Moist trenches
Uncovering the dried bony remains
Of long buried heartache and horror
Footprint fossils of fear so
Searing they burned and spawned hot shapes of memory, like
Lightning’s deformed glass forged
Under storm-drenched sand.
I dug it all up and cataloged it and
Then
Most unscholarly
Gripped a worn out hammer and
Smashed the relics into dust
One by one
Releasing each time the geysers of
Ashley relief and revelation
With each discovery and its
Ruthless pulverizing
I felt emboldened
Ready
Come, I thought
Come!
Then more impatiently
Come! Come now! Calling
Eternity’s vast
Abyss
Brazenly bawling into the
Gaping excavation
Then pleading with her to
Trust me
Trust me with her secret
Her Terrifying Real Form
And one day
She did
And I saw
And shook and howled with the vision
Appreciating now
That Pandava’s
Breathless fear
Because
The face of God
Was
My own
And this time I had trained to endure a
Frightening hallucination of something
Other
But
The tarp lifted off in the wind
Revealing
Nothing
Everything
Is and always was
Me.

THE FACE OF GOD
from, The Temple, by Nicole Grace