Search inside the window of my soul
without placing the turpentine
that removes
the bright colors of me
and love me, like this…
like an artist loves
the strokes of paint
brushing slowly on a canvas.
Listen, but with your heart
not your ears
because love is like the wind-
felt but not touched,
blowing in and out from us.
It simply is everything
without expecting anything
but a beautiful composition
that comes from the mysterious.
Touch me but without hypocrisy,
without ill-mannered words
that get caught in deception —
you are more than that.
Kiss me,
grab me tightly,
but not so much like a possession
squeezing me like a doll.
Place your hand over my heart,
notice my rhythm
and try to follow it.
Love me, like love is meant to be,
with compassion
and faith leading the way
to wherever Spirit resides.