I am not the body,
Decaying, growing old.
I am not persona,
Garbed and masked as told.
I am not the mind,
Babbling incessantly within.
I am not emotion,
To let go is to begin.
I am neither hate nor anger,
Perpetuated from outside.
I am not the fear,
In me it shall not reside.
I am not false happiness,
Constructed by a material world.
I am not the false being,
Truth shall one day be unfurled.
Yet, I am not the lost soul,
Thirsting for an answer.
Nor am I the disciple,
For I do not have a master.
I am not what is seen or heard,
Lie and illusion are told by sense.
But born amidst awareness is truth,
A Peace, A Great Presence…
I am Love.
I am Love.
I am LOVE.
Source: Santuario, Ana Maria (2022). A Journey of Subtraction. Faith in Change Publishing, London.
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About the poem…
From Ana: I wrote this poem while laying in bed in the jungles of Borneo. I was living within a small clearing surrounded by tropical rainforest, with not a neighbour in sight, just another empty bungalow beside my own. Now I say ‘bungalow’, but this home of my own, the first I lived in solo, was a four bedroom mini mansion (at least to me), one which required a short sprint just to top up a cup of water in the long, family-sized kitchen.
When I arrived to this place, I envisioned a life like Jane Austen’s… a window, a desk, a pen, a notebook… and my thoughts. What I didn’t predict was the onslaught of thoughts living deep within me which were finally finding space to breathe and be heard. What a racket! What a nightmare! What a discovery I was making – I was my thoughts and my thoughts had caused me so much unknown pain.
However, as I sat alone, introspectively seeking, for all of 7 years, an occasional poem of light would beam down from the heavens and guide me, comfort me, and allow my suffering to become my friend, my teacher, the guiding force propelling me home, back to heaven within. This was the first of many words to flow out of these hands, none have been planned, edited, nor changed and reworded… for they were my gift from above, and who am I to think that I know better than that of the light?
Anyway, hefty lessons were learned, one of the more relevant to this material world being that large buildings are overrated, a few years later I would move to a small cosy cottage, one that left me feeling safe, comforted, and proportionately housed… perhaps once my thoughts needed less space around them to explode, so too did my body.
As for this poem, I only hope that others find a comfort in the words, just as I have throughout all these years of suffering… each poem offers a little compass point towards home… but your vessel is your own to navigate and get to know, I can only write, share and follow my own way home, towards that of love, peace, truth and freedom.
Bless you along the way.
With love, Ana Maria.
Poetry added monthly to Ana Maria’s blog
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