I want to return quietly to you
and find the holiness in your soul.

Before I touch your face,
I want to know your mind.
Before your lips,
Your heart.


Come quietly, dear poet.
It is easy. For all of us are holy things.

This grasping mind that wants it all
thinks there is more
than holiness.
But no, there is no more.


And when we meet again,
returning quietly to holiness in you and me,

Before I ever think I have the right to touch your face
I want to listen to your words and know your mind.
And then if you will grant your lips,
I first must slow so you can let me in your heart.


Come quietly dear, find
the holiness that's deep inside our soul.

Before our face was touched,
God knew our mind.
Before our lips,
our heart.