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POEMS
So here I am, tired of deceiving myself, tired of escape from the truth. I think I was afraid of just leaving all the attachment of the desires that I was clinging to... But I already saw the ocean, now I cannot go back. I cannot truly believe the river is the biggest one we have. I saw ocean. It was bigger than the river. I saw more than desire, I saw more than success, I saw more than money. There has to be more than everything we are clinging to...
So my dear friend, I think it is time to really leave... Maybe I have to leave my family and my friends But Please remember I am leaving to arrive in here and now... joniya
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 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 dream, 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 and taken time to feel it and heal it. If you have been opened by life’s betrayals, or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further wounds. I want to know if you can sit with pain -- Mine or your own, without moving to Hide it, Or fade it, Or fix it. 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 tips of Your fingers and toes, Without cautioning us to Be careful, Be realistic, Remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can hear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless, and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure Yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the 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 a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, And do what needs to be done to take care of the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know, or how you came to be here. 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.
- Oriah Mountain Dreamer, an American Indian Poet
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