Where were we...

My blog, sure does looks deserted for the past 2 weeks…my excuse is whenever I could sneak some time out I’d swing by and see if I could think of something to share. I did, I do…but my mind failed me and my fingers wouldn’t move, they declined! so I gave up…..and stared at the clean white ms doc which was filled up with my thoughts that I wanted to share…. In my head it looked like a hotchpotch of words, thoughts that were clashing as sentences, and stories crossing paths. While I’m untangling all those train of thoughts…read on these lines of poetry…ofcourse I didnt write it, but I came across.

* The Invitation *

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting
your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking
like a fool for love, for your dream,
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals or
have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
mine or your own,
without moving to hide it
or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, be realistic,
to remember the limitations of being a human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own
soul.
If you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty
everyday.

And if you can source your own life from it's presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or
how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the
center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls
away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments