Is It Made of Love?

I just pour everything into God.
I don’t know if my god is
the same as your god:

Is it made of Love?
Does it want for you what you want for you?
Does it come to you with hands opened,
asking nothing, but ready for anything?
Does it whisper to you of Light and of
Stillness, and point you toward any
of the paths that will take you there?
Does it remind you of your Seeing?
Does it remind you of your Knowing?
Does it remind you of the Gentlest Lover
ever you’ve dreamed, soothing you
all the way down the length of your body,
or caressing a weariness from your heart?

Is it ever late?
Is it ever gone?
Is it made of Love?

‘Is It Made of Love?’em claire
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