Writing these lines is foolish.
Does a beautiful woman ask for a kiss?

Do the thirsty need prompting to drink
or the lonely a reason to open their arms?

As the ink dries, it chastises me:
  Those who can understand me need no words
  and those who need my words cannot understand me.

The goal is within your reach: take it!
Why keep pushing it away?

Every complaint
every harsh word
every sigh of despair
is a hand, repulsing the arms of God.

His gift is the very Creation
some wish to leave.

Who leaves a party in search of the party?

And if they ask:
  How can you be so happy all the time?

I would say:
  As long as that question makes sense to you
  my answer never will.