The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
The Open Way
|Last night you looked so lovingly at me|
I had to turn away.
You know there are two ways to love
a friend said to me:
Face to face, eye to eye, skin to skin
And in the other way one gives love
at a distance
And hopes they pick up clues.
Yesterday I bought you a dozen red roses
each was a clue
And a promise that some day I would learn
to love the open way of the flower.