One Single Thing

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Witnessing, after all this time,
that everything I've ever experienced,
ever worked for or against,
ever desired or dreaded
has been a separate-seeming part of
one
single
thing.
One single thing
hiding in obviousness,
yet immediately accessed
the instant a wholehearted
Yes
arises to life as it appears now.
Yes to loving appearances and reality back into union.
Yes to surrendering struggle for or against the pulse of the universe.
Yes to witnessing the sacred resurrect from the ash of this world.
Yes to embracing the paradox that the sacred never died.
One single thing,
here long before I appeared on the scene.
One single thing,
here long after I disappear.
One single thing,
easily ignorable because it calls no attention to itself,
(being attention itself).
One single thing,
happening
now.
Home at last
in the imperishable love
of creation for itself.