The Tree Of Life Is One

I am two branches--one to heaven, one to hell,
Yet from the same ancient root I swell.
Goodness and evil, both abide,
Two rivers flowing from one tide.
All that is, a shadow cast--
A mirror of the One, so vast.

From that single root below,
Tuba and Zaqqum both do grow.
In one embrace, they drink and bloom,
Green leaves and flames within one womb.
Each breath, each soul, a single flame--
One spirit singing every name.

In fire's glow and paradise air,
In flowers' laugh and thorns' despair,
He grows them both with steady hand--
A tree with branches two, they stand:
One in mercy's gentle light,
One in wrath's consuming night.
Yet both are held in Love's embrace,
Rooted deep in sacred place.

Like a wandering moth, I turn and sway--
Between these branches, night and day.
Should I rest in mercy's light,
Or taste the fire's burning might?
Yet what difference can there be,
When all the world, all mystery,
Are but reflections of the One--
One source, one breath, when all is done.

O seeker, see this ancient truth--
No Tuba far, no hell uncouth.
All is One, one source, one stream--
One breath, one soul, one endless dream.
And in the end, nothing remains--
But Him alone--He who sustains.