The flowers that you had brought,
Placed in the old vase, a gaiety they show
The moments of your visit are relived-
A langourous perfume pleases the soul.
Briefly, your smile, their petals mimic
And turn their heads upon their stems-
Your lilies.
The moonbeam hue of your nail paint,
Must be incredibly blemished,
Like the surface of the moon over time,
For, at a moment of distraction,
It is hoped,
You did not bite their ends,
For, what else would you expect then?
Days slip by, as the winter creeps,
Quietly approaching another spring,
The haunting howl of the Himalayan winds,
Resonates beyond this frosty solstice,
But fades as each day passes by -
Growing imperceptibly longer
By mere seconds.
Do you pine for a precious winter yet,
With a morning mist and flaking skin,
The forgotten apples of a season past,
Gnarled and shrunken upon their twigs
They taste funny but are not that bad!
Come let's go inside the house,
Outside, its getting cold,
Or, would you rather stay by the bonfire
With your hair infused of the scent of smoke,
Black hair mostly, but intertwined with gray,
To showcase perfectly your beautiful age!
The hours, they have slipped, it's getting late
Your little car must think it queer
To rev up at this mid-night hour,
An empty spot upon the passenger seat,
Writ large,
Where once you had placed your beautiful bouquet of flowers!
And now with your car rolling out from the front gate,
The curtains are now drawn
To the drama of the rendezvous!
There shall be more cycles of life to come let's hope,
More acts of the play upon the stage
Not in faultless circles of perfection to perpetually please the soul,
But a process of blooming and withering
As an eccentric, oblong, ovoid thing,
Like an omnipotent egg twirling in space
To manifest its myriad mysteries!
The flowers will wither, the vase will break,
The memories of niceties will slowly fade.
Perfect circles never last
A strange, unpredictable ellipse will always mark
The extented dimension of space,
Where you and I are but extensions,
Of one common being
Of one shared existence.
The flowers you had brought,
Though no longer fresh,
Mean a great deal to me still,
Another visit is overdue
Keep your little car well tuned!
I will sleep eagerly hoping for the same dream yet again!
Let us hope that it comes true
And that we get to meet again,
For the divine inside you
And inside me
Are but one and the same!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem