A poem from the heart

I love you yet it seems I love you not as much as I desire for you
open up me that I may be yet more open
oh Mary, eyes see not without light and the sun shines not without your son

Joy what is, what is not joy?
my peace not as you not peace
suffer me that you suffer as we suffer without we

I want to be more for you; it seems trust is a state of being more than an action except:
to surrender to what is
to be still
to risk: to love enough to enter fear to melt away fear

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