Spiritual Work

The fire scorched “me”.
“I” turned to ash.
“Mine” was ablaze.

The ego boiled.
“My name” simmered, popped, and melted.

“She” “He” “Him” “Her” - blurred.
“They” “Them”- evaporated.
The hiss of “us” lingered in the smoke.

Layers and layers thrown into the flames,
Consuming wants and desires,
Suffocating judgement and shame.

The bright light illuminating the Truth.
Comfort in the warmth,
Familiarity in the crackle,
A sweetness in the embers.

The fire burned, and burned, and burned,
Until all that remained was Love.

This is the fire of Spiritual work.

Pachamama

Where have I been?