Who Loves?

Michael
The whole universe being a projection of mind,
Who is there to love me,
and more to the point,
Who is there to be loved?

The very nature of the Self is Joy,
But looking about desperately for "something" to come to "me",
an assumed small self is experiencing pangs of misery.

What to do?
Be affectionate with the poor little delusion,
But don't dote on it!
Enjoy the Joy of Self whatever "anyone else" may say!

Lakshmi
Well, now.
I am there to love you.
And you are there to be loved.

And it is just so that this exquisite love between individuals
can be enJoyed,
That I came into form from formlessness.
From Unity I became Multiplicity.

But everyone of my fractions
Harbors within their in divide dual heart
The liberating secret:

Like this poem,
The whole Universe is a story
Told by One—to no one.