Within a gallery, an artistic grace,
A canvas vast, six feet in height,
A soul revealed in time and space,
Bathed in a captivating light.
The frame, a slender, modest thing,
Allows the art to truly shine,
No gaudy glitter does it bring,
A glimpse of beauty, so divine.
But shrink that art to postage size,
And frame with trinkets, loud and bold,
The frame distracts with flashy lies,
The essence lost, a story untold.
So too, the body, flesh and bone,
A vessel for the spirit's gleam,
Yet judgments cast, and seeds are sown,
Distorting truth, a waking dream.
We see the frame, another's form,
Their fears, their flaws, a heavy weight,
Ignoring the soul's inner storm,
And missing the divine estate.
Let go the frame, the judging eye,
And seek the masterpiece within,
Where Oneness dwells, eternally,
And holiness can now begin.
