Lalitha Iyer Poem by James McLain

Could it be I am what you are?
A touch, a smell as thoughts that I think,
as that vine that grows around your clean feet.
I could not be as simple and meek, nor as
humble in word, in each verse that you read.
I can't as of yet grow as the tree, as tall as you need
just out of reach.
How can I prevent the bush, like the bee, circle around
in search of green leaves.
Nor he whom is wise that lives in a cave, the knowledge
he's learned that can no longer be given away.
So as he was in isolation from, so when he comes back
his word's are adorned.
Love's not the test, good people are, choices are made,
hence evil is not.
Heart's that don't bleed are thus made of stone, hand's
that are soft are as silk to the face, we all have.
Could it not be that warm breath to the ear, is as the
rose, once bloomed it never closed.
A mind that is good should have nothing to fear, goodness
of spirit and his Flesh you can know.
Be this thought and such thoughtfulness is and then when it
comes at the end of the day, then he will come to you white,
with the breeze of the dawn.