I used to wonder
what life is
I found out today
after three decades and a couple of years.
I had no book of wisdom
spread open in front
no hymns on my tongue
no proverbs in thought
found it out while listening to no sermon
gazing at no star, immersed in no religion
it all stood out,
while I sat
on a spread-out yoga mat,
mimicking the stance of a pigeon.
Life is…
fraught with that
harbored-pain-turned-sore-knot
from the weight of your heavy hams
your age-long-stowed baggage and what not.
It’s in the burdens
that have your shoulders laden,
boulders of fear you’ve forever carried,
the dreams you’ve hamstrung,
killed and buried.
The instincts you ignored,
edges left unexplored,
Life is…
what you should feel
as you stretch and heal
bursting the suffrage that you’ve stored.
Life is...
in all the aches you muster
from cradle to grave,
the bends you make-that hurt like hell
it’s the storms you brave.
Life is…
a deep affliction albeit,
also the deep knowing in your spirit
that perfect joy awaits,
once you lean-in your weights
into dis-comforts well regarded,
nuisance and anguish un-avoided
Life is…
the thrilling delight, lastly rewarded.