The Holy Spirit manages the bridge before me.
It guards the tollbooth with holy hand outstretched.
The toll it requires is my ego.
All that I imagine I am.
All the crazy, negative thoughts
roaming loose in my mind.
All the judgments, complaints, and criticisms
are part of the fee.
I must also pay with my body,
this skin suit I identify as me
that the Holy Spirit won’t admit through the gate.
It requires payment of my past and future
because this bridge crosses over
to the eternal present.
And so, I wait in line,
wondering if I can let go of the five senses:
the glorious fragrance of rosemary, eucalyptus,
The feel of cat’s fur, orange peel, silk.
The sound of gospel harmonies, rain,
The view of waving leaves,
their shadows on the wall.
And taste. Cucumbers and chocolate,
steamed rice, curry.
It’s no loss to toss the negative thoughts.
Who needs those?