See Me

A person situated in self, is more terrifying and daunting than any weapon wielding person

Here I am, here I stand,
doing my job, just like you all—
one more strand in the bundle.
See me? See me! See me.

Oh! Why don't you see?
My strand is not like yours;
it's glistening gold, wet with endeavor’s sweat.
See me? See me! See me.

Ah, you work hard too—so do they.
But my strand is stronger:
bend, bend, bend—still it won't break.
See me? See me! See me.

Hmm... others also bend, bounce, repeat,
just laying among the rest.
I am like them, then, maybe.
See me? See me! See me.

Then comes a shake, a tear apart—
I see no other strands, no more.
A gust of wind, and I'm swept away.
See me? See me! See me.

I fly, though I cannot flap like a sycamore.
I glide, though not like the dandelion seed.
I settle on the porch where Sita sits.
See me? See me! See me.

I feel her gaze rest over me;
I halt Ravana in his tracks.
Only then do I understand the sudden wind.
See me? See me! See me.

Randomly, suddenly, divinely,
I feel stronger than my physical form—
power overflowing this fragile frame.
See me? See me! See me.

Ravana—the almighty, ten-headed demon—
stopped by me, not a Brahmastra,
scampering away like a beaten hound.
See me? See me! See me.

I have stopped wanting to be seen.
Just a straw from the stack,
letting nature carry me through all odds.
See me? See me! See me.

For the truth is, Ravana didn't see me—
Ravana saw his fate through me.
All I did, laying before Sita, was surrender.
See me? See me! See me.

Physically, I never changed.
I was never meant to.
It was surrender that gave me a Brahmastra’s strength.
See me? See me! See me.