Spiritual Striptease
Indulge me, if you will...Allow me to do a spiritual striptease...I am a paradox. I am the simple enigma
I am needy and
I am strong
I am the mournful cry for a lover departed
I am that painful desire put to song
I am angry
I am joyous
I am too much spirit (so said a dear friend once)
I was born old with the eternally optimistic
hope of a child
I am hope
I am despair
I am vulnerable
I am the gaping wound waiting for you
to pour the salt of your judgment in - but
never wish to heal
I am demanding
I am forgiving
I am of mixed heritage
I am Native American
I am equally Irish
I am only the smallest fraction of something else
that I would rather not mention (unless, of course
you ask)
I am lost
I am found
I am boy, son, man, father, husband, lover, wife
I am small - as small as you are
as small as the ants are
as the specks of dust are
as the wish for something greater
as the microcosm
as the macrocosm
as the great expanse of eternity
and in that - I love you
and so, too
love myself
I am the vessel waiting to be filled
I am the pitcher hanging on to the hope
to fill you up
I am, have always been
and will always be
love-drunk
Indulge me, if you will...Allow me to do a spiritual striptease...I am a paradox. I am the simple enigma
I am needy and
I am strong
I am the mournful cry for a lover departed
I am that painful desire put to song
I am angry
I am joyous
I am too much spirit (so said a dear friend once)
I was born old with the eternally optimistic
hope of a child
I am hope
I am despair
I am vulnerable
I am the gaping wound waiting for you
to pour the salt of your judgment in - but
never wish to heal
I am demanding
I am forgiving
I am of mixed heritage
I am Native American
I am equally Irish
I am only the smallest fraction of something else
that I would rather not mention (unless, of course
you ask)
I am lost
I am found
I am boy, son, man, father, husband, lover, wife
I am small - as small as you are
as small as the ants are
as the specks of dust are
as the wish for something greater
as the microcosm
as the macrocosm
as the great expanse of eternity
and in that - I love you
and so, too
love myself
I am the vessel waiting to be filled
I am the pitcher hanging on to the hope
to fill you up
I am, have always been
and will always be
love-drunk