Whenever I cry at the absence of love.
I go to my backyard and sit on the swing.
The same swing that my father loves.
I look around and see tall trees,
All stand tall as the evidence that there was love and care and nourishment.
I see my neighborhood couple sitting on the bench,
Her head resting on his shoulder as they talk about their days.
I see clothes hanging,
Woven with threads of love.
I sit there with full belly because my mother cooked with so much love.
I am full because she made sure I ate enough of my favorite food.
I wear my mother's ring and my father's t-shirt and my brother's bracelet.
Everything reminds me of love.
I am here because my ancestors loved and protected.
I was born because of love.
I was born to love.
I was born to be loved.
There was love before me.
There will be love after me.
There is love everywhere.
River flows, birds chirp,
Morning comes, people work, in the evening
Sky is painted with pastels,
Birds return to their nests.
At nightfall there are streetlights,
There is science because of love.
People create for love;
People create for the people they love.
There is something like soulmates because there is love.
There are best friends to love.
People grow forests, walk across countries, find cures, cook, sing, dance, die, birth, weave, grow, heal, break
All because of love.
All for love.
If only I were great enough to write a poetry on love,
But love is poetry in its very existence...
-shyamsakhi
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