Keep awake therefore,
           for you do not know on what day
           the One is coming.

                           —Matthew 24.42

The Beloved waits just on the other side
of the thin curtain.
The emperor and his minions,
the billionaire and his servants
want you to sleep, to stay oblivious.
Don’t open your eyes to beauty,
the etchings of the frost on the pond.
Don’t see what’s going on,
don’t notice injustice,
don’t think of who suffers.
Just buy, and sleep.

But an awakening stirs in you,
an ocean tide you can’t defy.
The Teacher knows.
A hunger, the hopeful gnawing
at the cracks in the world.
Attentiveness to where it hurts.
The mystery, the migrating nudge,
the first birth pangs,
angels’ sharp desire.
“I know you’re there.”

Keep awake. Watch. Notice.
You don’t know when
the Beloved will appear,
when the world will shift—
the bird at the window,
the bum on the street,
the prison door.

The fearful court your coma,
and disparage the opening of your eyes.
Ignore them.
Stay woke.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

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