My lotus blossom

Do I love you
More than I love myself?

On too many days
I tried
to make you other.

I placed my hands
where only light
should enter.

My expectations
pressed against
your petals—
petals not waiting
for my touch.

I called it love.

I thought
I was sent to guide you
through this land
of opposites.

I did not see
you arrived
as the teaching.

Your beauty,
your radiance,
your turning
to the sun
showed me
what is required.

You revealed
what must fall away.

When you hear
my orders,
my directions,

know they arise
from old vows
I learned but never chose—
a voice
learning silence.

My work now
is unmaking
with each breath.

I see
how your beauty
asks nothing,
receives everything.

Let me tend the roots
without name or claim,

and lean back
as you open
into the shape
you have always been.