Sometimes,
unexpectedly,
Joy rushes in,
overfilling me,
pushing aside my bored, dusty ego
(with startling strength),
and I AM,
in that moment,
in the moment,
and all is present,
and all is Presence,
and nothing else matters
but to rest into the wonder
of whatever joy wants.
What Joy intends--
and what Joy does--
is to purge me,
like blowing out the sprinkler system
before the first freeze:
Woosh!
Joy purges,
then flows into the empty me
with the needed:
autumn tree ablaze in gold,
cats entwined before the fire,
smell of bread in the oven,
warmth of his touch,
burning (yearning) for all things holy
(for all things are then holy).
What Joy wants,
Joy gets,
pouring in,
like now.
Text and image © 2023 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.
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