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 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's 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 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 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.
Being
With You
In the start, you and I met.
Thru and thru, I can't forget.
The time spent, is in my heart.
To us both, we never part.
I believe, we know it's set.
Misery, is how I feel.
Without you, I am not real.
I miss you, I feel so blue.
I need you, to talk to too.
And to us, it does seal.
You always been, my true friend.
I trust you, until the end.
And our talks, which I hold dear.
You are kind, I do not fear.
With my love, I give and send.
Cathy L. Fishel
HOW MANY FRIENDS HAVE YOU? The old man turned to me and asked, "How many friends have you?" Why 10 or 20 friends have I And named off just a few.... He rose quite slow with effort And sadly shook his head A lucky child are you To have so many friends he said But think of what your saying There is so much you do not know A friend is not just someone To whom you say "hello" A friend's a tender shoulder On which to softly cry, A well to pour your troubles down And raise your spirits high A friend's a hand to pull you up From darkness and despair When all your other "so called" friends Have help to put you there. A true friend is an ally Who can't be moved or bought A voice to keep your name alive When others have forgot. But most of all a friend's a heart A strong and sturdy wall For from the hearts of friends There comes the greatest love of all!!! So think of what I've spoken For every word is true And answer once again my child How many friends have you? And then he stood and faced me Awaiting my reply Soft and sad I answered "If lucky ....one have I"
If you have poetry that you would like to see on these pages, please email me. I am always looking for poetry and writings to add here.
Email: run2@infocom.com
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