Expanding Consciouness

Expanding Consciousness

by William S. Becker

I was trapped inside this skin of clay,

My thoughts just echoed what they’d say.

A mirror cracked, reflecting pain,

Yet through the shards, Love called my name.

The world I saw was small and tight,

My truth was bound by self-made night.

But in that dark, a spark did start,

A whispered pulse inside my heart.

I reached for You through friends and tears,

Through years of doubts and silent fears.

Each wall I broke was made of me,

Each fall unmasked what I could see.

You taught me how to rise above,

To change my sight through acts of love.

The more I gave, the more I knew,

That You and I were never two.

Now every breath expands the whole,

Each friend a doorway to my soul.

Our hearts entwined, no more defense,

This Love — our shared omnipresence.

So take my mind, my will, my place,

Dissolve them in Your boundless grace.

For consciousness, I’ve come to find,

Is Love revealing the One behind.

What Are WE

 I asked the Question "If our eye's don't see and our ear's don't hear and our noise doesn't smell then what are we?  And this is what came out...

What Are We

We have eyes that don’t see and ears that don’t hear,

We walk through the garden but nothing is clear.

The scent of the holy is lost in the air,

A noise with no fragrance, a heart unaware.

We’re vessels half-fashioned—desire undone,

A room full of candles that’s missing the sun.

Great treasures within us we fail to reveal,

For we measure the world by what we can feel.

Yet feeling deceives when it serves only me,

It blinds and it binds and it fails to let be.

So we stumble in darkness, convinced we are right,

Claiming we see—while rejecting the Light.

But Faith Above Reason—the step past our sight—

This turns the dark valley to morning’s first light.

Not faith to believe some comforting lie,

But faith to rise higher than senses can try.

To trust in the friends when the ego says flee,

To build a new vision no eyes ever see.

To ask the Creator to help us ascend,

From “I understand” to “I rise with my friend.”

For reason is fine—but it serves the old throne,

The king called “myself,” who stands there alone.

Yet faith is the bridge to a world built on Love,

A ladder of Jacob descending above.

So what are we now? A shattered design—

A vessel that leaks till the cracks all align.

But what we become is the joy of His Will:

A heart made for giving, united and still.

Eyes then will open, ears then will hear,

The scent of His presence will draw us near.

We’ll live in one heartbeat, one soul, one man—

As Love fills the vessel where emptiness began.

What Is a Prayer

When the prayer is formed from the broken heart

Because it's with the ego you wish to part

No words from the mouth or mind

Can reveal what’s hidden behind

It’s the silent cry beneath the breath

The plea that lives between life and death

Where the soul admits it cannot stand

And reaches out with trembling hand

For the Creator does not hear the tongue

Not the songs so cleverly sung

He hears the shatter, the crack, the tear

The place where pride dissolves to prayer

When the heart breaks open wide

When the self has nowhere left to hide

Then the upper light begins to flow

For only then can we truly let go

A broken heart is the door we cross

Where we finally accept our helpless loss

And in that collapse, that humbled fall

We feel Him answering us all.

Heaven Quiet Embrace

If the right attracts and the left repels,

The right is heaven, the left is hell.

But both are threads the One hand weaves,

The push that breaks, the pull that breathes.

The right says, "Come, My love, return,"

The left says, "Burn until you learn."

Two forces striking one same heart,

One to mend and one to part.

For heaven isn’t joy alone,

It’s the place where we let go of “my own.”

And hell’s not fire or endless night,

It’s the shame of being far from the Light.

So I stand between the two that tear—

One lifts with love, one strips me bare.

And only when both live in me

Can the heart break open and finally see.

Heaven is bestowal, a quiet embrace.

Hell is the fury of self I must face.

But both are the steps on the same narrow stair—

And I climb, with my brothers, in one single prayer.

Birth The Light

The life we live is a funny thing

Feeling one’s heart as it sings

Songs of love and hate collide,

Two rivers raging side-by-side.

One pulls soft, like morning rain,

The other burns with hidden pain.

We learn to give, then hesitate—

To rise above, then bow to fate.

Oh how we walk this razor line,

Between the beast and the divine.

To hold the blow, yet still embrace,

To vanish me and make Him place.

For love without the hate is weak,

And hate without the love is bleak.

The two are forged inside our chest,

So we may find the One Who’s best.

I break, I mend, I fall, I stand—

Each step not mine, but by His hand.

The opposites in me unite:

Dark becomes fuel, to birth the Light.

Heart Made New

Heart Made New

The right love doesn't hide

It cuts you open from inside

It burns the lies you held so dear

And whispers, “Brother, I am here.”

It isn't soft, it isn't kind

It drags the ego out the mind

It tears the heart, but leaves it whole

It carves a vessel from the soul

It throws you down so you can kneel

So faith above the reason’s real

It breaks the walls you built for years

And washes you with silent tears

In the ten, this love is born

From every fall, from every scorn

We learn to rise, to bend, to give

To die each day — and yet to live

The right love doesn’t let you stay

Inside your self, locked far away

It lifts you into one shared breath

Where “I” dissolves a holy death

So take my heart, Creator, please

The Place The Knife Opens

I woke with a hole where my chest used to be,

An emptiness screaming like oceans in me.

No answer, no comfort, no wisdom to find—

Just a silence that claws at the edges of mind.

I begged for relief, for a reason, a light,

For someone to tell me I’m doing this right.

But the heavens stayed quiet, the floor fell away,

And I learned that the void is where He wants me to pray.

This pain isn’t punishment, loss, or mistake—

It’s the hunger He carves so my soul will awake.

For the cup that is empty is ready to fill,

And the heart that is broken can learn to be still.

So I stand here with nothing, with no place to land,

And I stretch out my wounds like a child with his hand.

Fill me, my Father, with love from above—

For this brutal is holy, and it’s covered in love.