It was here, in this abode
I undressed myself one by one
Laid bare all the trophies and the scars
Plucked the guts to see as they really are.
My perfectly imperfect nude self
That I carried for eons without a meaningful glance
That it rebelled, it hurt, it bled when I touched it the first time
Ruthlessly ignored for the promises and worldly delights.
Here wind would caress them
Leaves cover my guilt and shame
Because somewhere we shared the stories
Of being ripe and fallen and all the pains
Of homelessness and the search for the place
The place to hide, to play and the one to rest.
In all the darkness, the gloom and the despair
I could see all those who came never to stay
And in the sudden presence of the rays
All those smiled; they had actually never strayed
The pull of this infinite existence is strange but so deep
I must take leave, to be now and here, to plunge into it.
I struggled and scrambled in the bouts of hopelessness
Strained myself until my eyes could pierce through these trees
If the clouds could no longer cling, could rain again
And the empty, clear sky would grace the day.
That brings forth the beauty of the nude self
When all is gone and wiped and erased
The burden of the being and the clutters of the past
Is the luminous self that forever remains.