The temple of love is not love itself;
True love is the treasure,
Not the walls about it.
Do not admire the decoration,
But involve yourself in the essence,
The perfume that invades and touches you-
The beginning and the end.
Discovered, this replace all else,
The apparent and the unknowable.
Time and space are slaves to this presence.
From the clear center of my heart
there are no edges to my loving you
I’ve heard it said there’s a window that opens
from one mind to another
but if there were no wall,
what need of installing a window?
Those who don’t feel this Love pulling them like a river,
those who don’t drink dawn like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don’t want to change,
let them sleep.
This Love is beyond the study of theology,
that old trickery and hypocrisy.
If you want to improve your mind that way, sleep on.
I’ve given up on my brain,
I’ve torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away.
If you’re not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words around, and sleep.