“Why don’t you want to be your own teacher?” the wizard chuckled and asked.
His white beard looked upon me,
The image of a yogi as his mask.
I clung to the hem of his robe with tears down my face. Then I realized this interaction revealed the chase.
The chase for the enemy, that which was me.
Blocking my vision of my soul’s purpose to be.
My armor clunked as I stumbled to my feet. My head dropped for a moment with humble defeat.
It all became clear as I fear I misplaced the code.
Perhaps in the woods or when I bid goodbye to my
But here my teacher stood.
He only comes once in awhile.
To knock me into shape and make sure that I smile.
The message downloaded in a flash- the one of the warrior.
The wizard, he was the courier.
The code says be merged with the One and the void will be shown.
But first, we must accept all, the known and unknown.
Take no enemies, even the Trump.
Bewitch them, besiege them, use your wit.
They are all part of the dream, that is the hitch.
Still the mind without force, instead implore grace.
Lean into compassion and strength, looking upon Guru’s face.
The truth was unveiled as I was brought up to scale.
The wizard, the sage was to see I would prevail.
I let go of his hem and we walked side by side.
On to battle to bring peace and heal others.
There is no time to hide.
Transform into the swan on the coldest of days.
The time in the morning one is to pray.
Float on the bay with the snow on the shore
While cold mist rises to greet God,
a vision the demons abhor.
Bring peace, strength and elevate all.
The wizard told me once in a dream.
This was his call.