Naked Truth

Beware the man who speaks of love with such poetic ease:
He is a seducer, a word spinner seeking just to please.
But he’s so obvious, even a child can expose
the rude blemish of one who wears no clothes.

On the street they point at the naked and scorned
form of the avadhut, who had just been born.
They said: One who needs love cannot give it.
One who only talks of love does not live it.

I speak of love, he answered, 'cause in my cave
this is what my God in silence to me gave.
I heard that I must learn to love to find my soul,
but I am unworthy: being love’s object still my goal.

I am not worthy: This is my naked truth so plain
I wear no clothes so not to say it over and again:
Nakedness is a feature not a flaw of love,
and on this path, you never can be naked quite enough.

One who speaks knows the words and how to make a show.
Those who know, love and do not pretend to know.
Those who speak have seen the first rising of the dawn,
not the sun. It will rise when all the clothes are gone.

No one is loved exactly the way they want or need.
So the bee flits from flower to flower looking for mead;
and we search from object to object to find refuge,
but Love gives shelter only after getting her dues.

Speaking of love is an act of love; may it bring you pleasure.
Your grace alone will reveal my words’ true measure.