In the gardens of the soul does the Master speak, saying:
“I am empty, But not despairing, Having emptied myself of myself, Pouring upon the altar
of love, The demands of the ego, Becoming that ready vessel Which God would fill.
I am empty, Letting go of things made thin, Casting off the unessential, Always touched
by deeper stillness, Filled with sacred expectations, Waiting gently upon the heart, To
hear the whisperings of the soul.
I am empty, Not devoid of meaning, Nor in the mind made dull or listless, But possessed
instead of greater purpose, Being always filled from far beyond, To see in God the
greatest meaning, To become as one made fully knowing.
I am empty, Not puffed up with vain deceit, Speaking little of the self, But seeking
instead to gently hear, Becoming to all a refuge, Filling the heart of those in need With
a ready approbation.
I am empty, Yet always filled, Seeking in solitude to touch the heavens, Embracing to
my soul the rhythm of things eternal, Becoming myself both vast and deep, Hiding up