The Invitation

[Shahed]

I think I posted this some years ago, not sure.
Was reading it again and I thought I'd post it.

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 shrivelled 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.

Source: http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com/

[Fragony]

You've been sweettalking over the internet again haven't you, what was it last time 'two souls devided by machines' hehe you dirty old man ~;)

But since we are talking poetry I might as well repost my favorite,

Futility

Move him into the sun -
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds, -
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,
Full-nerved,- still warm,- too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
- O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?


Always gets me this one, written by a american soldier during the battle at the Somme. His mate froze to death I believe.

[Bijo]

Hickery-doo, hickery-hock,
Come, come hither, woman
And regard my nice big...

STOCK

For the salesman I am
And there be none I scam
Hickery-doo, hickery-hock
Hickery-doodelabock shock
-------------
Oh my: an attempt at humour by me? It seems -- unfortunately -- a heart I do possess after all.

I do recall a poem I made long ago: a serious... "attempt" it was. I will seek it and if found display it.

[Husar]

That was nice, Bijo.:laugh4:

And Sinan, is that universally applicable?
Maybe I should make a fool of myself outside the org as well.:girlslap:

[Bijo]

Your compliment is well-received.

[Togakure]

I wrote this in the Fall of 2005, after moving from the USA West to USA East, alone and far from my family and all but one friend. I posted it over at Chushingura, but thought maybe some here might like it, given the mention of poetry. I took a walk down to the park to do some heavy thinking one afternoon. Each verse is in the rhythm of a haiku. I've removed some of the original verses here; I think some refinement was in order.


South Orange Autumn

A bashful girl grins
says "Hello ... good afternoon."
I smile, and say "hi."

A brave boy sits down
on the park bench next to me
he reads quietly

The teacher is kind
"A nice change from the classroom ...
it's peaceful out here."

A warm smile inside
such unexpected pleasures
I'm thankful for them

***

In final moments
the countless leaves--glorious
testament to Life

Are they beautiful?
Do the sparrows sing in praise?
Will they remember?

A weary man sits
his Spirit white, in silence
contemplating One

How does the leaf know
when to let go, to spiral
return to the earth?

Soon, fierce winds will blow
bringing with them, storms of change
the dead know no fear

The Autumn leaves fall
it's simply the Way of things
cherry blossoms bloom