For Friends

the smell of dirt
winding roads through forests and mountains
and lives
gratitude for such kindness shown
such care

closed springs
rain, sleet, snow
beware the pizza in Quincy...

laughter from the gut
from the deepest places
gurgling up and out
and spilling over the three of us
on this night of many misadventures

campfire finally found
we sit
sleep outside
on the ground
under the star-shine
the river lulling us to sleep
and singing us from dreams
in the cold fresh
morning

not quite over yet
pack it up
and then...
dead battery.
the engine sputters
and we all exchange looks
and laugh
get the car jumped
pile back in
and we're on the road again

Wow.

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 centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
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
to be realistic
to 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 bear 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 is 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 at 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 the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done to feed 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 centre 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~