Yoga

Your face is hard,

they think you are a loveless wench

To me you are like a lover’s song

gentle as the spring breeze

Like a mango tree in full bloom

every leaf hides a delicious fruit

 

Such bare and scarce ways

did your progenitor describe you:

folks would never know

the luscious lass that you are

 

Clothed in rough and common raiment,

who could dream

of the uncommon possibility

that you are

 

I espied and pursued you

with a stout heart

 

Waiting and wooing

for lifetimes three

 

Trailing you through terrain unknown

of untold pain and sweetness too

The very journey has left me so complete—

the creation and creator are within me

 

Can no more see the world without you

Love & Grace