ourselves as we can….
before we can find the way
and the means to come home.
often, somewhere in the seasons
of our living, love is like that.
we become so numbed by the struggle
to merely exist, that we lose our
intimate connection….
we lose our sense of taste, of smell,
our very sense of touch…
and it is this loss, if we are lucky,
that redeems us, that strips us
and brings us back to the basic
instincts of our heart…
the storm comes, destroying
all the false images we’ve worshipped….
yet the rain washes our bodies,
the very bodies of our souls clean….
and only then, naked and vulnerable,
without any props… are we able again
to know love… to feel, to touch, to taste….
and again, through suffering, the candle is lit.
at our best, and our worst, naked…
we are the children of love!