Royal Flush

In a smoky room

scented with bourbon and sweat

I clasp my cards so tightly

they bend.


This hand with its

hearts, clubs and diamonds

is everything.

Whether good or bad,

I bet on it

believing the win or loss

depends on the deal.


Finally, bereft,

my chips gone

my account indebted

I call out for help.


Suddenly I see . . .

the Beloved’s hand

trumps all!


It is the royal flush

the real amidst illusion.


Whether I hold

a full house

or a pair of twos

when I show the Beloved’s hand

the air clears to a sparkly stillness

and the whole game folds

into the Oneness of Love.


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