Her hair-loops are quivering
In the wind again;
I would be shivering,
If not for the warmth of her gaze, but then
I wonder if I’m stirring up the air again
With the wrath
Of a thousand generations
Passing torrentially through me,
Electrifying the path
Of a million neural ramifications
Reverberating in my tiny body
That she unflinchingly
Gently, lovingly
Holds together,
Letting me not fall apart,
With her eyes, tenderly
As the bender she
Is, healing me
With her water
Wearing away patiently
The obstacles in my دل
Breaking my chains asunder….

Her cheeks are blushing
With the warmth of her love again;
Soothing me from the crushing
Pain of self-reproach,
From seeing myself an entity
That none would dare approach;
Intertwining our destiny.
Her gaze melts into tears
To wash away my fears,
Splitting rocks apart
Making clay from stone,
Dissolving it to tears of my own
To free my buried heart.

She becomes the water
That she bends;
She becomes the power
That she sends;
She becomes the healing that mends;
She becomes the lover that tends;
She becomes the tenderness that she shields;
She becomes the weapon that she wields.
She becomes the blood that flows
Through me as our love grows;
She would not bend it
But would defend it,
As though her own depends on it….

She is the dancer who becomes the dance;
She is the spell who becomes the trance;
She is the sifu who becomes the way;
She is the daylight who becomes the day;
She is the shower
Who becomes the rain;
She is the flower
That soothes my pain;
She is the artist who becomes the art;
And of me she has become a part--
So inseparable;
So dependable
Is she who has blossomed in my heart.