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 you 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 centre of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life’s betrayalas or have become shrivelled
and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can be with joy,
mine or your own,
if you can dance with wilness and let the ecstasy http://healthsavy.com/product/cipro/ fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioining us to be careful,
to be realistinc, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesnt 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 bear the accusation of betrayal and betray your own soul if you can faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when its not pretty,
everyday and if you can source your won life from its presence.
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
It doesn’t interest me where or what you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.