THE INVITATION

Oriah Mountain Dreamer,

Indian Elder

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

To be realistic

To remember the limitations of being 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 trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty

Even when it is not pretty every day..

And if you can source your own life

From its 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

To 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.

"House Lights" - 2005-04-01, 12:26 p.m.

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This is a poem that I wrote:

House Lights

We said it was the last time: the last seat in a sold out venue that only seats two� playing once where no one will be on stage and our only mainstay is stale popcorn and faded costumes filled with old memories of when you used to tell me I was beautiful� and I still believed you.

We said it was the last time� we would dance in tea trees and blow kisses at transients on the New York subway. And where the notion seemed stupid we did it anyway, if only to be difficult� or maybe to be different. To transform our dreams from monochrome to high definition � to live life with no fear as if we existed in the hardest Xbox game ever known to man and we�re in the most complicated mission because that is what we wanted. But now what was once surreal feels unreal and I sense that instead of being touched by an angel, I�m playing spades with the devil at his family reunion. So now we�re gambling: gambling on hopeful unions and future families; weddings with no officiant and children so far away from us that we can�t see their faces. We�re sinking our last dollar and dream in an investment destined for bankruptcy, handcuffed to the edges of a black hole and finally getting sucked in� falling through that black hole�s sinful existence� wholly, almost holy� as we stick by our belief that this is the last time like we promised our mothers that we would never forget to pray� and we�re led more and more astray and keep saying to ourselves that things will get better EACH and EVERY DAY we attempt to stay together. We lie to ourselves and say it will be the last time. The last time�

The last time you defibrillate my body while I�m still conscious by putting your hands anywhere near my heart. The last time you curse at me because you fell for me from the start. That last time we long to be in each other�s arms and fight to stay away. The last time we cling to hopes that make our logic go astray. The last time� the final encore� the last time you fill my mouth with salty kisses and I try to imagine you�ll follow with �I love you.� The last time I�ll understand� and when we commit to not committing and say we�re making love to one other without loving each other, it�s the last time I�ll believe that anything will ever change. The last time things will be sane� or the same.

-Blessings

<< then << // >> now >>

In memory - 2006-09-06
Okay,... so I'm a little pissed off. - 2006-07-04
Miracles Happen - 2006-04-23
With exceedingly great joy..... - 2006-02-27
I just had to share.... - 2006-02-20

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