Some bow where they worship,
burning incense,
and some dance.
My reverence is displayed
in this longing for You.
In the longing is remembrance
of a kiss.
I don't know if in the kissing
is any memory at all.
My lips are trembling again.
You answer my mouth
with your mouth.
I exist
solely to ask
You this.
If the yearning were not complete,
would You meet this prayer?
You brushed my cheek when I was young.
Now, again.
Rumi said: send not love, but
the desire for love.
Your warmth spreads through my being
direct from emptiness.
One way and one other,
I forget everything.
My lips touch the ground.
Blessed by this touch
none of us understand
this constant giving away.
At one moment, I am only
a display.
In that moment, You are here,
removing all traces of You.
When we are alone, nothing is left
of me.
Your presence is the fragrant smoke
before a match could be struck,
a warmth that remains
long after the burning.
Copyright 2007 Todd Mertz