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.