On Meeting Strangers

People seek pearls and do not know how to dive

They crave diamonds and are not prepared to dig

They carry stones and cannot let go of the burden

They run around when sitting still is appropriate

Truth cannot be found for it was never lost

What do they seek, these walkers on a path

Some image, a memory, other times, other places

Empty spaces in need of constant filling

Illusion grows any flower to confuse the seekers

Meditate on the rose, the emblem of the family

Many will deny the family and in so doing

Deny the worth of self within

The family does not deny them

Only they can do that

The Mother waits with open arms

To welcome us home

Her voice is calling

Her face is in your dreams

Home is not a dream

The dream is what is presently half-lived

And taken on as real

If these words seem strange

It is because of division

A lack, a void, a need

Maintaining a dualistic separation

Between thy self, our very own stranger

by Luxor

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