What is there to have or own when all already is?
If everything returns itself, what can we really miss?

What is there to seek at all if we are truly found?
Doesn’t the very act of searching, just send us round and round?

What if our thirst for knowledge is but a game of hide and seek?
In which we are provided now and again, with nothing but a peek?

What if service to life is its own beautiful reward?
Can we detach ourselves from the need to claim, own and hoard?

What if these gifts we crave, seemingly from afar
If they are here in us already embodied in who we really are