The tallest mountain that proudly rose,
its root piercing deep into the ecstatic womb of earth.
Snow- crowned zenith, sparkling purity in the halo of blue,
That is you.
You are my ocean.
I’m just a happy wrinkle,
in the laughter of your foam.
Pull me close to your whispers with the strength of your waves,
drown me in the depths of your mystery, take me home.
I walk in through your door.
It’s ajar, not closed.
The you-scent still hangs in there.
The fading echo of the last string you twanged,
a half- full coffee cup by your chair.
Looks like you’ve just moved out for a while,
perhaps for a breath of fresh air.
There is nothing to tell me it’s a farewell.
And nothing to tell me that it’s not.
I begin another lifetime of waiting for you ,
rinsing answers to questions we’ve both sought.
Roaming the mazes we’ve both been wandering for ages,
almost, but not quite connecting our dots.
I think I shall rest, sitting on the steps,
wishing I knew which galaxy you’ve chosen to take a dip,
gazing at the night sky of our beloved constellations,
drinking from the cup in which you’ve left me a warm sip.
Waiting till you come back with a gift-wrapped song,
I kindle the embers glowing in me, till the return of your spaceship.
I will always remember how it felt,
the first time we talked.
So uncomplicated and happy,
and also a wee bit self-conscious.
Can never forget that unusual feeling!
I will not describe it for you.
Because I know you felt it too.
Maybe one day, years from now,
we’ll really meet.
In the right place, at the right time,
in the right frame of mind.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
When, maybe, we are at peace with our turbulences,
when our thoughts are calm and our tears are dry.
And maybe we could give it,
Standing on the river bank, in the mild winter sun,
Numerous questions unanswered, as I watch the waters flow.
The breeze ceaselessly builds and pushes countless little waves.
Aren’t there millions of answers for which the questions I do not know?