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Had you seen
your father or friends,
were your mother still
in human form,
you might have received
good nourishment –
or not.
Through seeing,
listening to them,
you might have come upon Me –
or not.
Yet much in human speech,
much in interaction
misses Me, steers the personal self
like a siren distraction.
stark and bare,
nothing, no one to turn to,
the unbearable thrust upon you,
no door through which you could flee,
you surrendered, died, were reborn in Me.

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