I love to see your smiling face, where your eyes sparkle and the readiness of your smile comes effortlessly. This is the face you like me to see. I love to see your face when your eyes are closed, the softness of your features in repose. This face that doesn’t seek to please me or look with anticipation. I like it when I catch a glimpse of your face in ecstasy. So unguarded and present to the moment.
I love to touch your face, hold it in my hands. Brush your forehead with my fingers. I want you to know I am here, with you. Here to love you, drink you in. I want you to know I will support healing of past wounding. Stand with you in the trenches of remembrance and offer my witness as the demons of deep psyche take shape.
Will you show me your face when it’s not all put together? When you feel the flesh has been torn from the bone and you face me raw and naked. This face that asks for trust, loving-kindness, and no help. Will you let me see the eyes of sorrow, of shame and regret, of deep grief? Will you allow me to look when you would rather look away?
I want to see your face for the window it is into knowing you. I want to step through that space, run into things, get lost, get found, connect. I want to meet you face to face.
I want you to see me, to know my face. You tell me how much you like my smile, that’s the face you want to see. I’m happy to give it, but not all the time. I am not the carefree girl, the one everyone is drawn to. I’m not easy. I carry deep hurt and hold it so tight my face contorts and is not attractive. My tears are not demure but floods of sorrow and grief. My face shows the heart of a child wondering where love is. Will you know this face?
Like sun breaks on a rainy day or rain in my yard and sun in yours, will we know each others’ face in any weather? I want to see your face and you mine however we choose to show up. I want us to see our buddha nature in all our faces.