Poem ‘Surrender’ by Alan Wherry

No Surrender, that bellowed mantra of
an Orange Ulster childhood,
But thankfully not in my case,
It was heard not embraced.

London, still September dawning, Golden Square
Venerable, aged Chinese doing Tai Chi
Elegance and grace, magic in the swirling mist
A silent witness - me.

Suddenly I saw Her
A photo on a poster on a gable wall
Each time I passed I was captivated, entranced
Inexorably drawn to Her face, attention in enthrall.

She is Vishwarupa, She contains the universe
Thus, it was easy for Her
To help us take the next evolutionary step,
To become the spirit.

I didn't know it at the time, how could I?
Nor did the hundreds or so who saw the poster too.
She called, I came, a minority of one.
Non duality connected to the One.

What did I have, worth holding on to?
Touching Her Lotus Feet
Surrender was sweet, revealing
Just as the morning mist conceals, and gives way to light.