The Seed Growing in the Belly

Siddhartha,
I watched you leaving my city,
my bed
with no effort of resistance.
I let you go
knowing the seeds of you
are planted in my belly.

My love.
My beautiful bird.
How could I deny you
your freedom to find your goal,
the core of who you are
when I already know
the wonderful truth of you
in the warmth of my skin
touched skillfully, tenderly
by your gentle hands—
My mouth already knows
the sweet taste
of enlightenment
like all the harvests of a lifetime
to be licked happily from the lips
of that deepest hunger.

But now you flutter beneath the surface
of my dreaming, Siddhartha,
like a brightly bold butterfly
or the dusty brown sparrow
settling down for the night.

I offer my womb
for this small twilight shelter
and now selfishly hold
the most precious
treasures of you
safely inside.

Siddhartha,
I am finally remembering
what it is to love
in this child
that will repeat you.