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 a fool for love,
for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what life betrayals lay before us.
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 to be careful

It doesn't interest me where you come from.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours or mine,
and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the
silver of the moon. YES! from the joy of living.

It doesn't interest me 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 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 away from it, to stand strong beside me.

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 that no matter what, you will be with me,
together, two parts making one whole.