If we must cry
Wait until the warm rain falls
Where tears and droplets mingle
Where there is no separation of Self and Sky
Where our inner life emerges in petals blossoming from our eyes
Our soul nurtured by wet cosmic kisses.
The seeds of dharma planted
Yet, arid though our need does make
The humility of longing cracks our face
When we ask, “Why am I here?”
The answer does not wait
As simple as our lost tears confide
The answer blends your tears with Mine.
