Gifts, a poem

In celebration of National Poetry month, I am posting a poem that I wrote that I'm kinda proud of. It was a healing poem for me, a way of emerging from a bad relationship. 

Gifts

You do not travel this world unclothed

Upon your coming

You are bestowed with gifts of finery

And as you grow, you are dressed

Think of this clothing as treasure,

Not to be hoarded but shared

Yet not to be squandered

Vulnerable to theft

Think of this treasure as the stuff of art

Draw it, shape it, give it voice

Think of this art as your children

Love and nurture

Protect and respect them.

And think of these children

As sunflowers

Expanding

And ever-reaching

Towards the Source

- Diane Aoki, 1994