On Being an Oracle

“As Above, So Below”: A SoulCollage® card

On Being an Oracle

My ears
open
receptive
while my eyes droop in dream.

I rest
my breath so quiet
I might as well be dead.
I sit inert,
a statue made of stone.

I no longer plan
I no longer predict
I no longer play
that game of chess with Fate
I’ve been bleached clean of all doing.
Instead, now I rest.

I let the sounds,
inner and outer,
wander by
drift through me,
caress my soul
as they will.

I lie in the dappled shadows
on this moonlit summer’s night.
I am a pilgrim,
or maybe just a vagabond
asleep after a long, arduous trek,
but always, always,
with an ear pricked.

I no longer go chasing truth
or meaning
or beauty.
I no longer crave wisdom
knowledge
or even divine grace.

Satiated
I am now ready to receive
those wandering scraps of sound,
often incoherent,
fraying at the edge,
those wispy, wayward thoughts
that float by
on their way to another realm.

And then, suddenly
out of nowhere
blows in that shimmering breath of life.
Lo, it is Fire
that burns me to my core.

As I burn,
the flames fill me with delight.
All bondage released
I sing with Al-Hallaj,
“Ana'l-Ḥaqq;” “I am Truth.”
As my last exalted breath pierces the sky
all pretense falls at my feet
I stand. With a message on my lips.