Scrambled Eggs


If you’re enlightened

Find the unenlightened part of yourself

And wear her like a sweater.

See if you can

Without running back to protect



If you’re not enlightened

Put on your enlightenment like a jacket.

I dare you.

Wear yourself warm

In the wintertime of your searching

or not searching.


If you’ve shattered the self into a thousand pieces

Grab one piece, any piece,

and wear him for a day.

for an hour.

Grab the opposite of what the Mind commands

And find the truth nesting within

Like a pregnant hummingbird.


If you’ve found the Everything you are,

drink the red wine of it

like Christ

break yourself open against the moment

raw, naked, vulnerable


dare to forget

what wakefulness feels like


dare to remember

the next mask you wear…

dare to wear all masks.


Nestle between eyes staring out..

Wear the “I” without flinching

All of it.

Every last edge and personality,

every last commandment.

Dare to take every concept

consecrated sacred:  being,

moment, all, enlightenment, Oneness,


dash them against the tombstone of

your not-knowing

without clothes

and stand fiercely in the truth

only you can know

in this dappled sunrise,

this yolk of breath

these scrambled eggs.



(The eggs of this poem were scrambled circa 2008 and posted in, formerly known as, an online spiritual community which is now scrambled into an entirely new creation called A New Gaia.)



10 thoughts on “Scrambled Eggs

  1. sigh
    what if i don’t have it in me?
    I think maybe I have a last shred down there in the end of my left pinky toe, but I think that maybe I am just telling me that so that I can
    that was hard to say and it’s very hard to wear being backward and messed up and angry and all of those things on the list of overcoming
    and thinking what you said and wondering if it’s all an excuse and justification that i’ve really got it wrong and i don’t want anyone to know
    and i got up and i’m in the chair and i think….Simply Hear that I know is here but typoed it five times…and maybe in my ‘progression’ I forgot to know that simply hear and simply here are also…truly Enough

    (throws a brick)

    • If it’s not in you, dear elisa, wiggle that left pinky toe and surrender to what’s not in you. Let it be enough. I speak to myself, too. In our perfect imperfection, this is what we are, all scrambled and frothed with milk and salt and pepper. You don’t have it wrong. You are perfectly Elisa. I don’t have it wrong. I am perfectly Kathy. Let’s sink deeper into the froth of it and eat those holy sacred eggs. Blessings & Enough.

  2. I’ll take mine with sour cream, and enjoy every moment of what the Infinite Power of Creation has chosen to create!
    And I’ll be grateful and awed at your/its creation of the poem, Kathy. My deep thanks!
    Love, OM

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