Invite your presence to me.
Burn your feeling on my heart
Through these empty words I write,
Emptying my mind but filling my heart
With your passion for compassion.
Let me feel your presence once again
So I will know you still need me
As I learn to pass it on to others
In great need of your deep passion.
My life is a compass of ions,
Otherwise known as compassions,
The particles of my short existence
Telling my body which directions
I can move and can not move to
The rhythms passion leads me to
Feel, pulsating within this ionic,
Compassionate body-weak on the
Outside but oh so strong on the
Inside as the particles of my
Passionate existence intensely
Manufacture the outline borders
Of my body's outward, weak physical
Appearance of an existence shadowing
That of my inner strength burning
With passions no physical body could
Ever experience or express
The magnanimity of depth, feeling,
And strength this compass of ions
So beautifully portrays with such
A marvelously strong sense of direction,
Never losing its attraction to focus.
Compassion-a compass of ions I can pass on.
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