From Where Do We Come?

How can God be One and All; yet, remain outside of You?

Who do you think is watching from the halls of heaven above?
Is it a God or a Goddess?  One who thrives on fear or love?
Is there really a Creator or did we all come to be,
secrets of evolution - the you of you,  the me of me?

 

Is there a heaven at all, some transcendental time and place,
or do we simply imagine there are stars in outer space?
Have we been fed with sweetness to believe that dreams can come true
like wheat on wind in a thunderstorm or flame of morning dew?

 

We search to try and remember, and we beg of God for more.
But where o! where did we come from and what are we looking for?
It seems we search in vain in life-long circles that never end,
disillusioned by all the truths that we cannot comprehend.

 

Pebbles bounce off the water, the soul rings as clear as a bell.
Hands of hopeless despondence scrape the stones of an empty well.
The heart is a lonely summer, a cry from the sleeping soul,
a burden to all the half-ones that are seeking to be whole.

 

A ribbon of the rainbow makes a promise in summer rain.
It explodes within the meadow, strikes the heart, then wanes again.
Life follows its direction to touch the sea, to touch the skies;
and we follow in its shadow and we learn to improvise.

 

We profess to believe in God, but tell me how is it true?
How can God be One and All; and yet, remain outside of you?
Does not the river become the sea, the least of all is some?
If God is we; and if we are God, then where are we all from?