My fine roots whispy
Slippery muddy water and silt
steady my pace
Ground me in their essence
No difference between soil and heaven
bending and blending like shifting clouds
and darting schools of fish in turquoise water
My stalk is segmented
Not in the way of an etching or tearing points
but one lifts the other higher and at the same time
pulls the other tenderly downward
We clump together and spread breath and height
not within our own bodies but within our Oneness
Bending, limping, sprouting and dying into our shelled empty cores
There is no loss
There is no gain
It happens because We are bamboo
Resilient, flexible , true to our own nature
I am bamboo because of You, because of We
