My own love

My very own is my love,
It has nothing to do
with yours my dove,
And now when I realize this,

there is a gentle surge of bliss,

I own, accept and embrace

the soft brace

of my own love,

and welcome it,

without a bit

of expectations from the interest of my love,

my determined dove.

The beauty of a new day,

a fresh ray

makes me forget my pain

beyond expectations and gain

and makes me smile,

above jealousy and guile,

A cool morning opens,

A fresh day of karma beckons,

I take full responsibility for my love

without bothering what does my dove.

I see and be with the now

with an accepting bow,

And the world changes for the better,

The clods of pain shatter,--

A lovely bird in my little garden,

A white-browed fan-tail flycatcher,

It sallies like a butterfly

to catch the irksome house fleas,

A beautiful bird,

Friendly, flirtatious hoops and loops.

Comes then a sound

above the human hound,

A solitary sarus crane

comes sailing through the air

with its trumpeting call sharp but fair,

I hope it hasn't got a love-fall,

It's amazing to see a sarus crane,

It's a symbol of love and fidelity,

The traits getting lost among we humans,

But the big bird holds it aloft,

The emotions soft

in a world hard

gets a smile the bard.