The Body Is Not Hidden

Reality Is Blocked By Form And Image.

At Night, I Open The Window And Ask The Moon To Come And Press Its Face Against Mine. Breathe Into Me. Close The Language-door And Open The Love-window. The Moon Won't Use The Door, Only The Window.

I Am Your Moon And Your Moonlight Too I Am Your Flower Garden And Your Water Too I Have Come All This Way, Eager For You Without Shoes Or Shawl I Want You To Laugh To Kill All Your Worries To Love You To Nourish You.

The Ripe Fignow That You Live Here In My Chest,anywhere We Sit Is A Mountaintop.and Those Other Images,which Have Enchanted Peoplelike Porcelain Dolls From China,which Have Made Men And Women Weepfor Centuries, Even Those Have Changed Now.what Used To Be Pain Is A Lovely Benchwhere We Can Rest Under The Roses.a Left Hand Has Become A Right.a Dark Wall, A Window.a Cushion In A Shoe Heel,the Leader Of The Community!now Silence. What We Sayis Poison To Someand Nourishing To Others.what We Say Is A Ripe Fig,but Not Every Bird That Flieseats Figs.

For Only When Faithfulness Turns To Betrayal And Betrayal Into Trust Can Any Human Being Become Part Of The Truth.