Empty Return

You are far away—yet the heart's windows remain open.
Through those windows come silent tidings, as the moon in night's sky sends letters of light.

Love is not the harvest of long companionship—it is the soul's meeting in a single moment.
If that meeting never happens, then even ages spent together will never birth love.

Without light, the rose will not open its heart.
Light gives it courage, or else it stays furled in fear.
We are the same—inner beauty sleeps unless it finds its light.

I open the window and call to the moon—
Come, press face to face and breathe with me.
Let language's doors close, let only love's window stay open.

For lovers I wish this—let their lives be festivals,
let their hearts dance in fire, in love's own flame.

Beloved, at your touch my longing stirs to life,
in your presence the very feeling of separateness dissolves.
So no more waiting—now I want to become one with you.

If you must give love, then give it freely.
There's no meaning in falling in love while trembling with fear.
If you expect return, then it's no longer love at all.

You are far away, yet still the windows stand open—
hope's window, care's window, the soul's own window.
In your dreams, your laughter, your life, even in death the window of longing stays open.

Despite distance, the window of sight never closes,
never close the windows of faith, of tenderness, of truth.