Exile

There is a sense, 
in the great effort 
to live in this thing called life, 
that one is in exile.

Sent to a distant place 
from which there is no return 
save through death; 

sent to pray penance 
for sins both known and unknown, 
while at the same time 
being ever in danger 
of committing more sin.

I discover that I am responsible 
for the whole world and everything in it; 
and each creature, as it arises, 
has been vouchsafed this same responsibility. 

Vouchsafed this responsibility without coercion; 
for the Lord trusts all of His creation,
and gives each creature freedom 
of both body and soul, 
a gift of immeasurable value, 
trusting that each creature has the ability 
to rise to the task of its own responsibility.

This is a grand experiment, 
a gift without measurement 
given in the dual sureties 
of loving trust and trusting love. 

Given in kindness without measure. 

Given in compassion without measure.

And so each creature 
-being begins far from God 
and is set at once on its path home. 

It leads through many thickets 
for the weeds grow deep in life 
and the forests grow tall. 

There are no maps, 
for the land is strange 
and changes completely in every moment.  

It changes in such a way 
that it is forever new within eternity, 
always re-discovering itself. 

Perhaps we are not here so much 
to discover the intricacies of connections between beings, 
the biology 
and geology 
and astronomy of the universe. 

We are simply here to see relationship in this moment; 
and if we attended to that sufficiently, 
with enough love and enough kindness,  
We will know truth
From within its own heart,
Where it dwells in love the most
And gives its all.

This is the path home.