The Pedestal

Placing me upon a pedestal
Is flattering, its true.
But its not where I belong;
Its not the proper view.

Pedestals may topple
And shatter upon the ground
The illusion they displayed
Just beyond touch and sound.

Standing upon a pedestal
I'm only seen from afar:
And all the worship cannot heal
Isolation's mar.  

Far better to place me on the ground
My feet firmly planted there;
So you may look into my eyes
And see their passions flare.

Place me where you may see
All the dents and flaws.
Then your love is complete
And will inspire my awe.

Place me in front of you
So I may touch your face;
Run my fingers through your hair;
The contours of your cheek, trace

Wrap your arms around me,
Let me snuggle in to you.
Keep me by your side
Let me work and play with you.

Look into my eyes
Plant your lips on mine
Take my hand; speak to me
It could be divine.

Pedestals were never made
For flesh-and-blood displays.
I belong on equal ground
With you each night and day.

So love me with all you have;
Shower me with all your charms.
But keep me where I belong:
By your side, and in your arms.