Growing to Love

brown and withered,
looking out, not in,
lonely, uncared for,
a deep rot sets in;
watered and nourished,
finding love within,
growing roots to reach out,
love blossoms from within.

Miracles of Love

a lump of clay
breathes love,
coming alive
in countless forms,
touched by stardust
on The Potter's Wheel,
each a miracle of love.

I am

I am the raging sea
lashing the unyielding shore,
I am the placid waters
in a sacred lake of yore,
I am the winding river
that finds its way into the sea,
I am the bubbling hot spring
spewing fire out into the green,
I am the murky waters
of a marsh that draws all in,
I am the salty tears
that fill the empty well within,
I am the gentle rain
that drenches the earth on edge,
I am the lone dewdrop
that rests on a leaf  with a pledge,
I am the cold, hard ice
on an unreachable peak,
I am the rolling mist
that wraps hills in love they seek,
I am the ethereal snow
that mates with the Edelweiss,
I am the pelting hailstones
trampling silence from up high,
I'm everything, I'm nothing,
that you can and cannot see,
I am whole, I am empty,
I am love, I am me.

Bidai

it was seventeen years ago
and I feel it come alive -
the tug in my heart, the pain in my soul,
as I lived my "bidai";
the lump in my throat rolls to and fro,
lost and stranded in the middle,
not knowing which way to go;
how do I swallow the pain and let go?
my whole being awash
with a searing, deep pain
of being cut to pieces,
which one do I give, which one do I take?
tears find their way
dropping slowly inside
to fill the emptiness
that I try to hide inside;
I remember how I sat
on your lap, hugging you tight;
was I scared to abandon the child
to become a woman that night?
or was I seeking a love
in a dream that grew with me,
blind to the love
that was already inside of me?
was I angry with myself
for not standing up to be
the real person that was hiding
under layers that others thought was me?
was I convicting myself guilty
of an unspeakable crime,
not realising that the Universe
was unfolding dreams - yours and mine?
then why is it so hard for a girl
to say her "bidai" even today?
why is it not a happy moment?
why is there so much pain?
it's not just a soap opera,
life's drama or a game,
what is it then about a "bidai"
that brings to life - the human pain?