Your Gifts Shall Be Recieved

Dear, dear, dear—
Dear Master of Love,
I think I awakened
in the wrong design.

The signs all say living,
but the faces say hurry.
The clocks consume the daylight.
The towers swallow sky.

Everything is shining.
Everything is for sale.
But something in the human heart
seeks awakening,
it is quiet, faint and pale.

Take me to the Love Matrix,
where the Lovers gather near,
where kindness is intelligence
and tenderness is fierce.

Where the warriors of compassion
guard the living flame,
and every soul remembers
why it came.

I toss out my love songs,
so many songs of love,
small signals through the darkness,
little lanterns sent above.

But so few hands reach back to me.
So few voices answer mine.
Did the signal pass unnoticed?
Did it vanish in the night?

My mother wrote in poetry,
“Your gifts shall be received.”

I carry those words within me…
a promise I believe.

But Master, when they aren’t,
when the answer is late to come
when I offer what is deepest
and am answered by no one—

it hurts.

It hurts to send out beauty
and feel it disappear.

It hurts to sing of tenderness
to those who will not hear.

Ah, Dear One,
Some gifts are not received.
Some meet a wall of fear.
Some are offered to a world
that has not learned to hear.

Love is not self-abandonment.
Love does not ask you to disappear.
Even the one who bears the signal
needs a voice that answers:

I am here.

Have my gifts been received?

Seek the souls who practice presence.
Seek the ones who can receive.

Ask, where is the love here?
Listen for the answer,
or call again and again
until love is listening,
until love answers back.

Offer Loving Kindness,
kiss the living earth.
Let yourself be loved and seen.

A gift may travel farther
than the giver ever knows.
But you need not call the silence love
or remain where nothing grows.

Master, do not ask me
to love indifference.

I ask you not to become it.

Do not ask me to make peace
with cruelty.

I ask you to interrupt it.

Every garden is a portal.
Every kindness bends the grid.
Every child who learns compassion
changes what the future is.
Every creature, every “other”
is an opportunity to show love’s flame.

Take me to the Love Matrix,
not by leaving Earth behind,
but by changing every program
that divides the heart and mind.

Call the Lovers from the shadows.
Call the Guardians of the Flame.
Call the Warriors of Compassion.
Call each Dear One by their name.

Still, sometimes I want to go home
to a home I have never seen.

Then become one of its windows.
Let its light enter through you.

Am I trapped in the wrong Matrix?

Only if you surrender your choice.

And if I choose love?

The other world receives a voice.

Love Matrix, wake among us.
Wake in body,
soil and soul.
Wake wherever fear has severed.
Wake wherever hearts grow cold.

Dear, dear, dear—
Dear Master of Love,
I thought I had awakened
in the wrong design.

Now I feel another Matrix
forming underneath this one—
every time a heart chooses love,
another world has begun.

We are here.
We hear your fierce heart beating.
We receive you.

Your love has reached many hearts.

Dear One,
you are not alone.

“Your gifts shall be received.”
“Your gifts shall be received.”
“Your gifts shall be received.”