The LORD hath heard my supplication; the LORD will receive my prayer.
We send a thought into the universe
and believe the higher power receives the transmission
and gives us back what we send out.
Am I then a frequency?
Bouncing off of poles and satellites,
a ricochet of myriad messages in waves of pulse
are we, creatures with minds?
Creatures of minds… but the mind a series of synaptic flashes
that are no flashes of brilliance, really, but, rather,
biological secretions of fluids and chemicals in the brain;
mechanical transfers of the parts of life, life to life being merely multiplication: the universe?
Energy is the movement of matter? Or is matter no matter, but actually energy?
And where does the moving begin? Like a billiard ball struck by a cue that
strikes another ball and another, atomic particles divide and scatter because…
There is an unmoved mover that is not the universe.
There is an uncaused cause that is not matter-ial, yet is the opposite of immaterial.
Do I set the things of my life in motion?
Do a butterfly’s wings cause a monsoon?
Yet where did it all begin?
Infinite universes of infinite matter with infinite possibilities in parallel?
Am I the butterfly? Or am I the petal borne on the wind?
Or… beyond my thoughts and imaginings… beyond myself…
beyond my flesh and blood, beyond all matter and detectable energy…
am I being loved…
Every thought and imagining,
every person, every particle,
every body of mind and heart and strength is
It is we who receive.
And every hope, every fear, every prayer, every moment,
is being loved….
Does an element cease to be an element when it is compounded?
Does the sky cease to be the sky on a mountaintop
or in a cave? Is the universe no less the universe in a grave?
What is in and throughout, what is above and below and all through is
How can a thought be lost when it is being loved?
How can a supplication be unheard when it is being loved?
How can an offering not be accepted when it is being loved?
How can a spurning not be forgiven when it is being loved?
How can the feet run away from the feet, how can the lips kiss the lips,
how – unless we shut off love?
The bowl in the pouring rain is overflowing full –
unless it is turned upside down.
Before the uncreated creator I stand, I kneel, I lay me down,
with the begging bowl of my heart open and upright, ready to be full,
for I am being loved….
I am not a beacon or a signal and the universe is not my maker,
for I am not crafted parts manipulated into a sum to immaterially transmit into
the hum of the universe for the sake of matter-ial return. I am
The question is – am I allowing myself to be loved?
have I shut off love or am I open? have I turned upside down in this matter-ial world?
I am being loved – am I being loving?
Love is the Absolute Truth and only error denies Love.
Only willfully relentless error chops off the feet and burns off the lips
and deludes the mind with immaterial singing and dancing.
© 2014 Christina Chase
All Rights Reserved