my attempt at turning Shamati 36 into a poem

I was born in a body that only knew “take,”

A beast filled with hunger, a bottomless ache.

Clawing at life with a desperate scream,

Thinking this world was more than a dream.

Then the second body rose from the ash of my sin,

A trembling vessel too fragile to hold anything in.

It loved and it hated the Light in one breath,

As the ego fought back with the promise of death.

This body would kneel but refuse to let go,

It begged for the fire that teaches the soul how to grow.

Every prayer felt broken, every night felt long,

Yet the Creator whispered, “Child, you are already strong.”

And from that whisper the third body began,

A body not flesh, but the birth of a man.

Not a beast, not a beggar, but a giver of Light,

Who rises above reason in the darkest of night.

Now I walk with all three—like wounds in my chest,

The past that still haunts, the work in each test.

But the love of the Creator turns every scar gold,

And the body He promised begins to unfold.

So break me again if it teaches me grace,

Carve Your Name in the cracks of my face.

For I’ve lived in three bodies and painfully see—

Every death You gave was just birth back to Thee.