A blade of grass
In the vast paddy field;
The vision within
I had of me.
One, just like tthe other-
Yet standing alone
No hope of grain
To weigh me down
The joyful burden of
Fruition, yet to be mine.
And yet, hope lingered
That I would meet worth
If not grain; why not?
A butterfly's tinsel touch?
Or yet again, a gentle whiff
Of a moonlit breeze.
To tingle, tantalize
Bringing promise of that
I had yearned for!
And when you came,
In the guise of a little
Brown sparrow,
Looking, with your head
Cocked to one side
Quizzical gleam, through
The quiet knowledge reflected deep...
I knew, why I was made-
I knew, felt known, was touched
By your quiet simple knowledge
Why worry about whats and whys
I am me, the blade of grass
Like no other-
Meeting my destiny, the way I should
The way I would
When it unfolded.
Buoyed by a brisk breeze
I swayed, in thanks-
At the quaint brown sparrow...
12 April, 2010
Pic Courtesy - birdsofwestwood.com
