When the moon kissed the high sky
He said “I am still here”
A smothered spark
Longed to leap back
Into light and flames
Ashes from another night
Suffocated its desires.

A wave crashed
Across the timid rocks
Of a battered heart.
There was not much to do
Than succumb
To the merciless pounding
Of bittersweet love.

In silent stillness
Of a familiar room
Eyes wide open I saw
A me that was here
And a me that wanted to be
On the stones of time
His deeply etched image
Is a reassurance.

I seemed like myself
Crawling into the arms
Of imaginary warmth.
If only poetry could flow
With as much truth
As it used to..

In my silent room
In the dark stillness
Of an unfamiliar night
I wept and wept
Till my heart exploded with love
I love him terribly
Helplessly Joyously
Someone save him from me…

5 thoughts on “He..

  1. I think it should have been called “Yesterday”, but I realize that the poem is more personal than topical. Poetry still does flow from you as it used to, with as much truth. The warmth is not imaginary, there are ties which bind. But there is solace in a friend, if you please.

  2. The feelings of yesterday are relevant even today…which is why I still try to keep them alive even after it is today..

    “He” is the one who inspired it and so it is for him.

    Thanks for the observation about the poetry.

    and… 🙂

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