You know how it is,
to be raised by strong and caring hands
yet they are calloused, from having received rough blows
and delivering them in return,
so whenever you look upon them, they are there for you
but not for all beings,
they are droplets of water, coursing down a melting icicle,
only choosing to drop
into oceans that are known to them
and they only let themselves meddle, with swarms of their type,
and I asked,
what if I could love someone different,
someone they didn't have to understand or know
but who is also a strong, yet gentle being on the inside,
what if I could let myself spill
into all kinds of oceans and rivers, and flowing waterfall valleys of pain
and swim openly with all the life forms,
what if I could let myself bud open
like a massive, blooming, soft petaled flower
welcoming all kinds of creatures
into my companionship,
for having strong and calloused, yet gentle hands,
should mean a strong, yet gentle and open heart
capable of forever giving unconventional love,
to all in the world.
"Where there is love, there is life."
-- Mahatma Gandhi
