Roberta McDonnell

What am I without these thoughts?
A ribbon on a breeze,
All in a twirl for love of life.

What am I without this pain?
A cry of joy in the midst
Of birth, death and rebirth again.

What am I without this fear?
A diamond in a cave,
Once boulder-bound, now glinting brilliance.

What am I without these griefs?
A warm cup of honeyed milk,
Brimming into the world.