The Search


Every morning, when I wake up
I wonder when I’ll really wake up.
It’s been years now,
And still no sign
Of really dying
And being born.

And like a Pilgrim in the desert,
I keep trodding on,
Looking for the only non-mirage there is, The City called love.
And how do I know this City exists?

In answer, my mind takes me back
To a small room, long ago,
And the broad smile of a friend,
As he told me God is Love,
And Who God is.
And as he spoke,
And then stopped speaking,  

His smile went on and on.
And the room filled with a Presence,
And time and space collapsed
Completely into Love,
Into which we both disappeared,
Yet remained.  

And the Sun rose in its Glory,
And bathed me with its Light,
And fed me with its Honey,
And Blessed me with its Sight. 

And in the folds within my “robe”,
For a moment I knew Truth,
As told of since the Ancient Days:
And I’d found Eternal Youth.
And my friends,
When I left that room,
I sang a different song,
And searched a different search. 

For nothing I’d known before
Could matter very much,
Once Time and Space
Had given way to Love,
Like the thinnest membrane
Parting to reveal
The vastest Universe inside. 

And I saw
That what I’d known
Had never been very real,
But only stood to mark time, 

As we wind our way
To that Love
Uniting All.

C 1983 by Max Reif

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