How it Feels
As the leaves tremble in the wind
Then get refreshed by the magical rain
Would the wind and the rain ever know
How the tree receives with grace?
Would the banks know how the river feels
To have two arms hold its course?
Would the flower know how the honey bee feels
How holy meade fills its being?
Would the clouds know how the earth feels
To eagerly wait and then imbibe life giving waters?
Would the babe know how the mother feels
When releasing nourishment from herself?
Would the lamp know how the eyes feel
When a dark room gets lit?
Would the pen know how the paper feels
While words decorate its plain frame?
Would the caption know how the shutter feels
To open and close on deep mysteries?
Would the speaker know how the listener feels
While sounds of the Truth reverberates the soul?
How then would anyone ever know how I feel
When I gaze at the One whose head is bent to the Source?