The wind holds everything. It even holds the love we lost; this love is held, rocked to sleep and awakened in another heart that beats with courage and says “I love you”. This love is like another outlet that runs to your heart’s ocean
and with fervor rushes down a hill
and calmly makes it way on the slight inclines until it enters the coastal.  
This love is yours from the every beginning to the very end. Yours.

I am like everyone else and because I am like everyone else I am beautiful.

We hold our traditions as our ways to life
in our pocket books
in your our palms pressed together
in our sutras
in our rosaries
In our myths
in our stories of creation

We place devotion in whatever path our heart has been lead to and with devotion
we find where they truly lead. To now and it infinitesimal  wisdom and unity

When the bees buzz over the ripened fruit, you will know it was love that brought them to the stamen not pollination.

I want to be brave and in my hands hold this ball of love
“I can be anything or anyone. A tree, an ant, a human, a bird.”  
Hold this love in hands so that I am never scared. So there is never “the other”
This ball of light I hold onto let me courageous and let me not forget

this ball of love and light in it the same
knows no separation no boundaries

It is raining outside but close to me
it is dry and warm; monsoon
season rests in my chest
rain descends consecutively like each living
second–
one after the other making both, life and rain, seem endless.

the clouds trickle their misunderstood grey-ness into my yogurt bowl sweetening my existence; each droplet a new second held in time so I count: 
 1 - 2 -3 -4 …until I arrive at endlessness, presence and peace)

It feels like I took one deep breathe and never exhaled until now.