LOVE IS MY COMPASS
Love is Our Compass
Dear Master of Love—
Love is our mission.
But how do we know where to go
To find it, to apply it?
Dear Ones,
Does a compass reveal the road—
Or only the direction?
Only the direction.
Then Love is not the place you seek.
Love is the way you choose to travel.
I listen to my heart beneath the voices in my head,
All the words that taught me Love, all the lives that Love has led.
In the stillness I can hear them, but I don’t obey the noise—
Every feeling is a visitor; every visitor’s a choice.
Pleasant—recognize it.
Unpleasant—recognize it.
Neutral—let it breathe;
You don’t have to idolize it.
You cannot stop the weather,
You can let the thunder roll.
Never call the storm your compass,
Never give the clouds control.
Re-cognize—know it again,
Name it, then release it.
Hear the mind—
Hear the world—
But let the deeper heart complete it.
Com means together—
Passus, a pace—
We measure out the circle
With the steps that we take.
No map of tomorrow—
No promise of ease—
Just the next faithful step
Toward the greater peace.
Love is my compass!
Love is my north!
When I lose my direction,
Love calls me forth.
Not an escape,
Not an excuse—
A strong hand on the rudder,
A heart that hears the truth.
Love is the struggle!
Love is the work!
Love holds the wounded
And shields those who hurt.
Pas à pas, ensemble—
One step, one course.
Love is my compass!
Love is my north!
Oh-ah, oh-ah, north is Love…
Oh-ah, oh-ah, walk as one…
The wound becomes a magnet, pulls the needle from the star;
Yesterday keeps telling us that injury is who we are.
The ego keeps the ledger: every insult, every debt—
Scratching at the injury so no one can forget.
The victim can inherit
The design of the oppressor;
Change the hand upon the weapon—
Does the weapon become better?
Round and round—samsara,
Old pain in a new disguise.
The persecuted persecute
When hurt becomes their eyes.
But the scar says—
“I remember.”
And the wound says—
“You must bleed.”
Love preserves the lesson
But releases us from need.
The scar can hold the wisdom
Without holding back the soul.
Beloved Community—
Hold the wounded, guard the whole.
Who here is dangerous?
I and I.
Who can be possessed?
I and I.
Who will guard the power?
We will try.
With a hand upon the rudder
And the North Star in our eyes.
Power without Love?
Domination.
Love without power?
Good intention.
Give Love hands!
Give power conscience!
Make protection our resistance!
Love is our compass!
Love is our north!
When the wound becomes a weapon,
Love must answer forth.
Tender, not passive;
Gentle, not weak—
Love can close the gate
While refusing hatred’s speech.
Love is the struggle!
Love is the school!
Teaching every hand
How to carry every tool.
L’amour est notre étoile—
One light, one source.
Love is our compass!
Love is our north!
Have tact in the touching…
Change tack in the gale…
Feel the wind move through us…
Feel the tension in the sail…
Hull and heart are humming,
Rope and rib are drawn;
The ship becomes a violin
When every part belongs.
But when the course is crooked,
Every body feels the strain.
Those who hold the wheel deny it;
Those below first name the pain.
Truth-teller, speak—but never build a throne.
Teacher, guide—but never claim the compass as your own.
When the prophet becomes guru,
When the healer crowns a king,
Listen inward, listen outward—
Hear the whole creation sing.
Listen to the quiet voice,
Listen to the warning bell,
Listen to collective wisdom,
Listen where the wounded dwell.
No single voice is north!
No ruler owns the star!
We test the truth by whether
It makes Love wider than we are!
Love is my compass!
Love is my north!
Through the cycle of suffering,
Love calls me forth.
Love is not innocence;
Love understands:
The heart must guide the power,
And the power must have hands.
Love is the struggle!
Love is the art!
The school of wisdom,
The school of the heart.
Pas à pas, ensemble—
One step, one course.
Love is my compass!
Love is my north!
Love is our labor!
Love is our song!
Love is the bearing
that tells us when we’re wrong.
Scar, not the wound;
Truth, not the throne;
I within the many—
Never separate, never alone.
Pas à pas, ensemble—
Through every force,
Love is our compass!
Love is our north!
Oh-ah, re-cognize…
Oh-ah, re-cognize…
Together—a step…
Together—a step…
The compass gives no map…
Only a bearing…
And the bearing is Love.