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