The Faceless Man

Most, to identify, focus on the face;
not seeing it; we won’t have a clue;
it’s the one feature you cannot erase;
for no other feature, will do.

We could stare at the hands and feet;
but they pretty much look the same;
it’s only when our eyes finally meet;
that we each know the other’s name.

In eternity, the face isn’t so consequential;
slowly wearing out, in the course of time;
when death comes; it’s no longer essential;
we become the soul of an energy divine.

When in the body; we wear a unique face;
distinct, and different from all others;
in our next life; that mask we’ll replace;
but, our soul is what attracts all lovers.

In the heavenly kingdom of thought;
we each imagine the face we see;
the creative soul, the Master wrought;
wears the face that you want to be.

In the ultimate mystery garden of thought;
having completed your lifelong task;
in the arms of the Father, by whom brought;
experiencing peace at last.

When the faceless soul enters the garden;
the Master is aware of who it’s to be;
it’s one of His souls, secure in His pardon;
for that faceless man is me.

Monty 12/12/22. # 1,1378