If I had the chance to live life over,
I would go more slowly - that's for sure.
I wouldn't put up such a fight
to have my way or prove I'm right
or overlay the world with my agenda.
I would open each day like a present,
tender toward what ever came my way -
every texture - joy or pain -
searing sun or healing rain,
for I have seen the masks of my Beloved.
I would not be so restless,
so eager to mess with
the nectar of what is
that I over-think the kiss
or turn my mouth away.
I would not take a single breath for granted.
And I would spend much more time on my knees.
For once you've strewn the ashes of
the bodies of the ones you love,
you learn something about what really matters.
And I know that love is worth the wounding
And that this dance is too brief to sit through.
So even though my heart would break,
what a deep, exquisite ache.
I would always be a fool for love.
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