The Invitation

By

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

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 in 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 dreams,
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 in pain,
mine or your own, without moving
to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be faithful
and therefore be trustworthy.

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 tip of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful,
be realistic, or to remember
the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me
if the story you're 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. 
 
I want to know if you can see beauty
even when it is not pretty every day,
and if you can source your life from God's presence.
It doesn't interest me who you are
how you came to be here. 

I want to know if you can live with failure,
yours and mine, and still stand on the edge
of a 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.

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.