Daily Archives: October 8, 2019

For my lover: an invitation…

I want to see you. Naked. Beyond the covers.

No, I’m not talking about your scars, or your medals. But you. Your naked soul.

I want to connect with you. Feel you.

What is it that stirs inside of you? The wind that moves you? What is it that puts a smile on your lips, or butterflies in your belly?

I want to see all the engines inside of you combust into flames. I want to feel the passion of your heart. Raw. Unhinged.

And I want you, when you see me, to fall apart so that the blanket you’re wearing comes off and you stand naked in the sun, looking straight into my heart.

Who are you?

I’m not talking about who you became. Who life shaped you into being.

I’m talking about the person beyond that. The essence of your soul. The place you come home to. The real you. The heartbeats inside of you.

I want to be with you. The real you.

I want to bathe in the essence of your soul.

And I want you to see me. Feel me. Touch the core of my being with your fingertips. I want you to stare into my soul until the stars inside of me begin to twinkle and all else fades away.

I want us to write the poetry of our souls on pieces of paper. I want us to draw each other’s beauty on canvases. I want us to speak words that make us see who we are. I want us to experience ourselves through each other the way only lovers can.

I want our souls dance naked as our hearts create our dreams. Together. Beat by beat. Step by step. You and me. Together. Creating our dreams.

I want you. The real you.

By Maria Montgomery

Inspired by Oriah Mountain Dreamer’s 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 centre 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 at 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 the 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 centre 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.

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