A Sense of Love

I did not love her for the curls of silk
on her head, cascading down like a stream,
that watered the dried out plains of my heart.
Nor was my love for the sparkle in her eyes
twinkling like the beacon from a lighthouse,
that showed my drifting soul a destiny.
I loved her not for the warmth of her smile,
radiating like an Autumn afternoon,
supple, mellow yet reinvigorating,
that healed my ageing spirit’s chronic wounds.

 

But why did I love her then, and for what?
I loved her so because she truly was
what I have always wanted my female self to be.
So loving her was like loving myself for me!

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Revival

The Day begins with a throbbing pain in his heart,
last night his better half had run out of the wind
to breathe and sustain the blossoming of his love.
His first few steps are sluggish, hazy and confused,
like a thick foggy morning in late December
and he knows, the sun had set on him forever!

   

Brief autumn was the months of joyful completion,
it came and lingered for a while or two before
fading to the mossy annals of oblivion,
buried alive with no traces left above the ground!

   

Then the sudden onslaught of winter shocked the world,
each day became all frozen to its tender core,
the humble pen stopped bleeding and the blood ceased to flow,
that etched teary sadness and laughter on an empty page.

   

After many a month of such desolate emptiness,
another mighty blizzard came, howling wind blowing hard
but this time though the Day would lose his better half, his blood
would thaw and melt to flow and etch his tears and dreams again!

Farewell!

Fare thee well my good friends, I pray to God,
may your futures be as bright as the sun!
I have always loved the moon’s eclipses
way too much to pine for the heaven’s warmth!

       

Fly hard, climbing higher and higher still
my dear friends until the wax in your wings
starts to melt and we shall meet again, you and me!
I was Daedalus in my previous wanderings.

      

Farewell my young friends, claim the future as your own!
Remember, you can only reap what you have sown!
Fare thee well my sweet friends, now with a heavy heart
and may be a half-shed drop of tear let me part!

    

I came with Autumn and by Summer I was gone!
For a stay so brief, my friends, who would ever mourn!

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Sonnet 275

After the wetness of the rain,
on open prairies, lush and green;
after the endless waves of sand
in the glare of a desert sun;
after the lashing of the wind
atop the foggy mountain peaks;
after the broad-leaved trees become
deciduous with rose and amber
bathing as the day’s knell is tolled –
this is who I am in the end:

An applicant who has too often failed
to get into the human club
for refusing to be a cannibal;
a global citizen,
a refugee, imprisoned
in his own motherland!

.

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An Altered Color Scheme

Summer is green for sure, the Monsoon, watery!
Despite the bloom of white flowers everywhere
blue is still the color of a Fall, for the sky
or Autumn, if one would prefer to call it so!
Up next is Winter, the months when Persephone dies,
more from the fog than the chill or snow, it is white!
The last one is the queen of all that came before,
often seen but seldom found too, Her Highness Spring.
Paint it as you wish, perhaps with an altered color scheme,
you are at liberty except pure black, as it is mine!

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