Maybe enlightenment.

Is the end of becoming.

 

 

Existence is.

Unconditional acceptance.

Existence is.

Unconditional love.

Existence is.

 

 

That.

That which paints the clouds.

And colours the flowers.

That.

That which shines in the raindrops.

And glistens in the early morning dew.

That.

You are That.

–

Not tomorrow.

Not when you realise it.

Not when you stop feeling like this.

Not when you get enlightened.

Now.

Right now.

 

 

One Life living.

This being This.

Even the strongest sense of separation.

The tightest contraction.

Just one Life living.

Just This being This.

 

 

It’s such a relief.

Just to be ordinary.

To be perfectly fine.

Just as you are.

–

There’s no need to become.

This is it.

You are it.

Already.

 

 

Lights down by the harbour.

People laughing.

Waves crash against the shore.

 

If there’s a recognition.

That there’s no doer.

Then there’s also a recognition.

That everything is good enough.

Exactly as it is.

–

Everything happening.

Nothing making itself happen.

 

 

Not standing apart.

Not separate from.

All that is.

 

Thoughts.

Blooming.

Like wildflowers.

In the meadow.

On a Summer day.

 

 

The destination.

That isn’t a destination.

This, here, now.

The destination you never left.

The destination you were never apart from.

Never separate from.

Never separate.

This, here, now.