a good opinion of myself…
is a good opinion of the One who made me
so I can’t do anything blameworthy
for fear that I will disgrace myself
in front of the only One who is worship worthy
no compulsion in religion
yet I feel compelled to believe.
beyond belief:::
is somewhere “i” cannot exist-
I believe that.
besides me, there nothing
because I make the things-
in my reality, real
I believe them- and so they are.
like the law of attraction
I suffer the affliction of criticism
in that I was created to be
exactly what I am
bound by the fibers
that make me, me
to do what I do.
pulled by forces-
gravitational
::like love::
and sacredness
so i sin:
human
ness
i plead…
“forgiveness”
and in the love/sacredness thing
I do tawaf.
“I am in the opinion of my servant.”
tactile touches
tepid taunts
trustworthy faults…
I’ve come to trust
