The Man on the Rim

On the rim of life, we drift and stray,

Far from the center, where truths once lay.

Chasing shadows, we count and divide,

The ocean’s vastness lost in the tide.

We see the parts, but not the whole,

A fractured mind, a restless soul.

Freedom, now bound by fleeting desire,

Burns like smoke, not sacred fire.

We master the world, yet feel unfree,

Blind to the roots of unity.

The sacred wholeness, the deeper ground,

In noise and haste, remains unfound.

But deep within, a voice will call,

Beyond the rise, beyond the fall.

A whisper of truth, a spark, a flame,

To shed the false, to seek the same.

Awakening comes, a shift, a light,

From shallow dark to guiding height.

To see the One, the source, the plan,

The path back home for the disconnected man.

No longer enslaved to the lower way,

We rise, we climb, toward the day.

Where freedom lives in unity’s stream,

And life aligns with a higher dream.

So pause, reflect, and turn within,

The journey starts where we begin.

For in the center, all things align,

The rim forgotten, the soul divine.