A Number 2 Pencil
I’m a floating stream of the Master’s Light;
consciousness, describing what ought;
not allowing my dreams to fade into the night;
absorbing all love that the Master taught.
Most of my life, I had dreamed of writing;
yet, found myself on a different path;
an external source, seemed to do the deciding;
discovering a new role as an empath.
I’d considered others sadness with sympathy;
caring about all sisters and brothers;
those feelings transformed into empathy;
distant friends seemed closer than lovers.
Whenever my words would help any others;
I felt inexpressible joy from above;
feelings and thoughts, of sisters and brothers;
from within; I could feel their love.
I sought to use my gift for communication;
but, what could a failure have to say?
My sorrows and failures were my foundation;
reaching out to others; showing the way.
Throughout life, I’ve written much that’s unused;
never, fully living up to my dreams;
in spite of my failures; I’ve been excused;
God’s love is far greater than it seems.
My heart overflowed from my natural sympathy;
while my mind seemed to work like a stencil;
the Master overwhelmed my mind with empathy;
transforming me into a number two pencil.
Monty 12/18/22. # 1,388