Life is an empty canvas you paint;
at least that’s what some feel;
such thinking seems a bit quaint;
but, how do we know it’s real?
Others think life’s a book that we write;
but, isn’t that just more of the same;
we, who scarcely know day from night;
will likely receive all the blame.
The real truth of the matter is more complex;
we’re never really in total control;
our thoughts of control are merely reflex;
we’re the energy child; God’s soul.
We’re the physical illusion of God’s thought;
with the Master whispering in our ear;
when we respond to the Love God brought;
then, we have nothing to fear.
We are children; blueprints of God’s power;
upon whom we are meant to rely;
the cycle of life; is like that of a flower;
we are planted; blossom; then die.
We are the matrix of an infinite reality;
living at destiny’s pleasure;
sharing all thoughts in a world of duality;
and death, is destiny’s measure.
We were born; a result of the Master’s voice;
in a world where we laugh and cry:
no matter what; we are given little choice;
the Master determines when we die.