Inheritance of Light (His Guidance Concealed and Revealed)

 

Inheritance of Light (His Guidance Concealed and Revealed)

I thought inheritance meant gold and land,

Something my father could leave in my hand,

But the Creator left me nothing to hold,

Only a heart that remembers the cold.

When He was near, I felt rich and complete,

Every desire lay down at His feet,

But when He vanished, the world turned to stone,

And I was left with a hunger alone.

So what did I keep when the Light went away?

Not the pleasure, not what I felt yesterday,

Only a record, a silent demand,

A Reshimo burning like dust in the sand.

Concealment taught me what I truly lack,

Revelation showed me the path to come back,

Between the two, I inherit a cry,

Not for reward—but to know who am I.

The ego says, “Give me something to see,”

The soul says, “Leave only faith inside me,”

One wants the payment, the other the why,

One wants to live, the other to die.

But die into what? Into love of the Ten,

Into a place where there’s no “I” again,

Where even in darkness I choose to bestow,

And inherit the Light even when it won’t show.

So the will to receive gets stripped of its throne,

And I learn how to walk in a world unknown,

Not by the feeling, not by the sign,

But by choosing connection when Light doesn’t shine.

This is the fortune no grave can contain,

Not pleasure, not wisdom, not spiritual gain,

Only the power to say in the night:

“I serve You still… even without Your Light.”

That’s the inheritance, written in flame,

Not what I get—but for what I aim,

To love You concealed more than revealed,

And inherit the Creator by how I yield.