Again I find myself

Standing in Arjuna’s chariot

Caught between the total commitment to God

And the precious lure of identity

I meditate most earnestly

For the well-being of my friends, my lovers, my children

My fulfillment of purpose, my enlightenment, that wealth may rain down

On me and my beloved

That I may soon join the gods in frolicking in the cosmos

I am still the poor immigrant, kneeling in dim light at the altar

Begging the Savior for a crust of bread

Where is surrender? Where is the courage to know

That the I that asks for gifts

Is gazing into a mirror, and that God lives

With all other sentient beings

Elsewhere.