It’s all synchronicity, my dear one;
whether for worse or for better;
ever since all life had begun;
our souls are wedded together.
We are not all separate entities;
as we all supposed it to be;
instead, we’re forms of divinities;
servants to the Master; yet free.
It’s a circular pattern we weave;
for the Master’s goal is perfection;
we must not let reality deceive;
for anger’s a form of rejection.
Though our lives may seem threadbare;
there is a method to madness;
for the greatest deception is “where”,
we’re always swimming in sadness.
This world is God’s physical stage;
where all of His actors perform;
sometimes we feel such outrage;
that He allows that we be forlorn.
But, it’s all a part of the process;
the Weaver’s purpose, to fulfill;
tho all we seek is our own success;
the Master is weaving our will.
I have been given a great treasure;
one, never intended for me;
though writings are my measure;
the real treasure is meant for thee.