Lost in Dreamland ?.........almost

I don't really know where i'm heading with this blog, something deep within is starting to stir in its slumber, it's lost in dreamland but,in the shadows at the edge of awareness,a gathering whorl of potential gently nuzzles the dreamer with thoughts of awakening.........
What does it mean to love unconditionally?.
To continuously give with no expectations,
radiating in all directions always,
helping,for the pleasure of helping,never taking.
Shrugging off the abuses of others with loving kindness,
tolerant of all, non judging,simply loving everyone.
I haven't yet found the strength within me to reach this level of being but, something deep within is starting to stir in its slumber,it's lost in dreamland but,in the shadows at the edge of awareness,a gathering whorl of potential gently nuzzles the dreamer with thoughts of awakening.........

What follows is a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh, a rare and fragile beauty reminded me of this poem just recently ,its titled

Please, call me by my true names

Don't say that i will depart tomorrow-
even today i am still arriving.

Look deeply:every second i am arriving
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive,in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.

I am a mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And i am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am a frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And i am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda,all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And i am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea-pirate.
And i am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And i am the man who has to pay
his"debt of blood" to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labour camp.

My joy is like spring,so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so i can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so i can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so i can wake up
and the door of my heart
could be left open,
the door of compassion.