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The Words of a Dying Man

What becomes of me matters not,
for you see only the fallen leaf
and not the living tree.
As the leaf has the life of the tree within it,
so have I the Life, for in Truth,
it IS what I AM, and I let go
to return to being
what I AM.


Above all, strive, yearn, pain, mourn
to know God,
for in that time shall you be free,
then shall you understand.
The Love that I feel
is the Love that I AM and
there is no fear, only longing
to return.


Dear Lord, in whom I find my being,
keep still the restless tides
of mind and desire,
absorb me once more into
your Infinite Peace.


Guide the understanding of those dear Ones
I have known, that they too
may be blessed with your love
and freed from the bondage
of the world, its lures, traps and perils.


Let them also rise into the ether
and expand into the Light,
that they may hear the silence
of the words I was never
able to say.



Written in a cafe in Tottenham Court Road, London, 1972. This “came to me” as I was crossing the busy street. I barely made it to the cafe, where I wrote it down.



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