The story of my life

I came a long way
To realize my life
is more than me,
or my dreams.

My tears are the source
Of the bountiful rains,
My flesh is the sacred cup
Filled by love,
compassion and faith.

I was descended
And buried in
the darkest nightmare
of human race;
Fear of living
To my true self.

I fell many times,
In mud, dirt and blood
I broke in pieces
sadness and sorrow
whipped my tiny existence
over and over,
Part of me died
In every encounter
between the leather of knowing
and ignorance
of my bare skin.

Every time I asked God;
why? Why me?

He stood by me,
was all I heard.
I got numb from
depth of pain,
I tried hard to
crawl out of dark;
Surviving became
an opportunity
To raise above
my limitation,
To change
and find my way out of
The noisy chains of fear;
Out of fog.

I began my life
Like an innocent leaf
on an old tree
with no map or plan;
listening to the older leaves
believing in their stories
full of fears,
Of cold, of wind,
of not knowing
How long more
their lives depends on a tree,
Not seeing
They are,
we are
part of the tree.

One night,
I had a dream,
Of what seems my future,
I woke up knowing;
I am not going to die
on a cold distant ground
Or disappear into the wind,
I am a life connecting
the bountiful sky
and the fertile earth.
I am holding the galaxies
And shimmering stars.
I must let go of fears,
Trust the drops of life
Up and down
through the tube of time.
So I did.

my life is not about me,
I am no longer a leaf,
I am a strong sycamore tree
Rooted in love,
With free branches
Circling and honoring life
Courageous leaves grow out of me,
In full color and design,
My purpose is fulfilled
In each breath of love ;
Into the clear open air
I am one with as many leaves
as they belief and trust;
All ascending
to the light.

~ Serena Devi ~