The Reincarnated "Me"

The quiet self,
Trembles in the chain of events,
Going through dim tunnels of memories,
Carved beneath the skin,
To discover the lost faith.

The sacred origin,
Behind all the incidents,
Where life
Holds all returning,
With no tremor or shake,
Life or death.

I stood down the lane,
Just observing
Like a quiet tree,
Still and shaded,
Witnessing,
Dance of leaves
And fragments of drifting seasons,
Falling soundless
Below my nest,
Bring all buried sorrows,
To the surface.

As my tears drop again
On the burnt petals
of my dreams,
Freedom begins to stream,
inside the hollow of horror and fright
the dry terrain of doubts,
I submit the present,
and move closer to
my existence.

The edge of fear
force me to bow down
on the rigid surface of past;
empty and naked.
Push my hands
inside the stains & blemishes,
face the prickly storm
and touch the ashes.

To see,
the veiled light of the dusky night
down my sky,
to feel my ground,
and know my nature,
to soar higher than my state;
to touch the life’s portrait.

The trail behind
is no longer mine,
What is infinite in me
Is the way of life.
The profundity of nothingness,
Reestablished my pith;
Rekindled my spirit,
With the eternal light.

I return to my being
season by season,
breath by breath,
holding on the new seeds
splitting the old,
to plant another life
on the new earth
as an ocean,
shiny blue on the edge of each ascent.

I am rebuilt again
Like a potter carves the pot,
All the cracked pieces,
Sink into the earth,
Renewed;
Under the sun.
Patience, love and faith,
Implanted life,
back again
in my breath,
and I rise as a new “me”
without changing
my silence,
without ending
my dark nights,
I just rise up
without losing my existence.