Rumi and Jasmines

I am from dandelions,

where my wishes get carried in the breeze

I am from swings and fireflies,

where I screamed in glee

I am from the the rain,

washing of the old and welcoming of the new

I am from whipped cream and gel pens,

bringing joy to my young soul

I am from balloons,

that I’d offer to the sky

and watch it

fly higher,

                and higher 

                                  and higher

into the endless stretch of blue

I am from embroidered dresses,

yellow marigolds and moon-white jasmines

cracked henna on my palms

hiding vivid red patterns on my skin

I am from strawberries,

that I grew in my backyard when I was five 

I am from the tears,

that I shed when rabbits stole my misshapen berries

I am from the gleaming stars - 

so distant, but just as mesmerizing

I am from Rumi’s poems

About love

About healing

About what is just too far out of reach