I have taken off my robe — must I put it on again? I have washed my feet — must I soil them again? My lover thrust his hand through the latch-opening; my heart began to pound for him. (Song of Songs 5:3-4)

The Beloved is uncertain, divided, and hesitant; thrilled at the prospect and a bit frightened too.

The Lover has arrived in the darkness, knocking loudly, seeking entry.

The Beloved stands naked - or nearly so - behind a locked door, clearly wanting to embrace the Lover but distracted by concerns of propriety, pride and even inconvenience.

Why do we delay? Why do we abet in the distractions? Why do we lock our doors?

Between us what purports to be love often is not. We have been wounded by false love. How can we distinguish false from true, unreal - or unready - from profoundly real?