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  • Writer's pictureBy Marianne


What you seek...

I wanted to share a poem that I've written. It's very much about coming to the understanding that all of this love, along with everything else in this universe, is projected from ourselves, and that there is nothing we have to wait for in order to be whole. As the Rumi quote goes 'What you seek, is seeking you.' For a long time, I just couldn't see that it was me who limited the love I received, by believing that it could come from anywhere outside of myself.


She thought she had to settle for crumbs.

That she could live contentedly on the edge,

Catching them one by one as they fell,

Guarding them preciously, like jewels,

Grateful to have any at all.

But there was a world beyond crumbs

Which she turned away from,

Blinded to the abundance of treasures

That rained down on her,

As she clutched at her beautiful scraps.

The All. The All of Heaven,

That’s who she is.

A Goddess on her throne.

Worth more than the edge,

Because she is the actual centre.

The whole of glory is her identity.

The never-ending vastness is who she is.

The mountains climbed.

The rivers crossed.

The precipices jumped.

Crumbs are not enough.

Not when she is the entire universe.

To someone.

To herself.

To me.

How can he accept stale crumbs, she asked?

As she naively searched the floor

For her own fragments,

Masquerading as a beggar,

Ignoring her own light.

She cannot teach you anything,

In either words or potential,

Unless she uses you as the mirror,

To catch herself upon her own knees,

Starved and bound.

She refused her own thirst.

She denied her own hunger.

Yet now she rises up in recognition,

A perfectly deserving angel,

At the banquet of love.

Held in reverence,

With honeyed lips and plump soul.

Accepted. Honoured. Received.

She feasts on endless love,

As the only one.

She doesn’t hide at the edge,

Because she is the main part.

She doesn’t chase crumbs,

Because they are not her truth.

She enters Heaven willingly,

Lips and mouth wide apart,

Heart and soul wide open,

Ready to be fed with what she already is.

Glorious and unafraid,

Because she was never dressed in anything but white.

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