the wisdom of falling apart

We are born of Spirit,
with no shape,
like a blob of light.

As we walk through the world,
tourists in its worldy culture,
we collect its spare parts,
forming a frame around us,
a shield from threat and rejection,
held together with wire and tape,
the hope of being accepted.

It is like driving through life
in a junkyard car,
forever plugging the gaps
with rationalizations and deceptions,
ignoring the rattles and shakes
of encroaching entropy.

And there may come a time
when we grow weary
with the strain of grabbing
at its decaying seams,
and release our hold,
allowing time’s arrow to guide us,
the wisdom of falling apart,
to be naked once again.