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Love is
      never a question.  

               If you
              have  to
         "Am I in love?"  
            you aren't.  

            for someone
         who  makes  you
               so in love
           by comparison
      everyone before them
              like nothing.  

          I  still  can't  co­unt
            all  the  reasons
                   why I'm
               madly  in  love
                    with you.  

                    We fall
                 in with love
          with people's flaws;  
                The perfect
            person would be
                     to love.
                                                           ­                               Jon York   2019
A morning, unveiling the light,
The light promising a bright day,
Who knew that the reins were already set from heaven
Ever-ready to eclipse the promising light!

The choked breath paused the minutes,
Even the seconds wailed to go on.
There it was-the body on the chariot,
to be set on the journey of being immortal!

The tears rolled down her eyes,
Millions of beads falling one on one
Like it was meant to be threaded,
To be worn as the garland of victory!

The garland beads before the ending mortality,
Flowed and dried as the fire consumed
The flame purifying the soul,
Know that the light shall always bless you!

Don't dare you cry!
And why shall ever you?
For the body that disappeared,
But the soul shall always guard you!

The countless moments of shouts,
The bucket and mug on its sunday routine,
Like the freshness draping the dried body,
And her blessings shall always be yours!

It feels like it happened yesterday,
as if it happened in a moment's flash,
She waits and stares at the door,
at her hands with memories painting her eyes!

Her hands feel the emptiness,
The mug and bucket stares at her,
The nightly-awakened loud cries,
Yes, her heart thumps and thumps!

Minutes resumed on a slow note,
Seconds swiftly slid,
But the heart that contained it all,
Lost the battle to time!

Adorned in a beautiful attire,
The jewellery adding twinkles to that star,
She gave her hand to her grand-daughter,
Yes, the hands were no more lonely!

She says-it was blissful
To meet her again, to defeat the time.
Grandma says-"it has just been five days and I feel tired",
Soon someone spilled water on those colorful images!

She walked again-back as a mortal,
With their hands merging as one!
Like the dream was itself a reality,
She did win it- the race with time!

I planned to meet the Nivecian butterfly,
Her kingdom attacked and shattered,
Still she murmured, still she smiled,
Being the anomaly to all!

The wounds of the deadly sword,
Still fresh with no blood in sight,
She was afraid if the fate was more cruel,
And if the same happened to her mom and dad!

A new morning casted another eclipse,
She was unknown to forthcoming but scared,
of the cruelty of that never-losing time,
The chariot again arrived at her castle.

Numbed with the pain,
She looked at her mother's body,
Her memories trapped in the wildfire,
She remembers her journey from the diapers to the hands that wiped her tears!

She shouted one day at her mummy-
Why are you not even letting me rest in holidays?
Her Mom was low in haemoglobin,
She utterly regretted her words!

Like a child she is as we all are,
The shouts and our childish threats once become our memory.
Mummy, she says she is numb to even cry,
But she calls to you-time and again!

She cannot cry anymore,
Millions of beads already woven into garlands,
She gave all she had,
To those two beloved-loved and alone!

Her wizard drowning into loneliness,
With the vidoes of his wife stuffing life in her running all twenty four hours,
As if she will return-the mighty she wizard
to her beloved , he wizard!!

The Nivecian butterfly now flutters,
Her wings beautiful,young and wet,
She seeks to rebuild her kingdom,
With the magic of her Dad!

She now has loaded responsibilities,
Of herself and her wizard,
Both of them make a wonderful team,
Their smiles-the oxygen to each other!

He sits without his potion,
But the beautiful butterfly seeks to brew for him,
The potion filled,the happiness instilled,
Their laughter consuming the space!

The cuelest of all happened to her,
On the 18th of May and the 8th of JUNE!
Shall ever be on the pages of our history,
The memories being our lifeline!

I call out to her-
Let your wings paint the world-
The world of your Dad, the very world of yours, the world of all!
Flutter ,rise and soar higher,
For that ending sky is your beginning!

I wish your words reach beyond spheres,
To that ever-expanding dimensionless universe,
the timeline failing before you!
You are a strong, beautiful mystery for all!

Yes, you are the most-powerful heroine in my page,
The pages of my life shall always breathe in your story,
It will forever be inspired by the tales of your glory,
You are the best Nivecian- even the two souls from heaven will bid for you!
Tender leaves of spring,
have been roasted by the dry-wind.
They rustle now and then,
dancing in the spring's dusk!

Hopeful green turned brown,
they continue to rustle,
like those tired men in the fields
whose tanned body glimmer with the soiled trickle!

The brown leaves rustle their glory,
they will once dry and shed.
The sweat being the anomaly,
that shed and then dry !

The once lush-green trunk stand naked,
onto the bed of their own body.
like that very pyre arranged,
the wood and body mixing as one!
Come sit with me and hold my hand as we watch the last sun of the day before evening arrives

Let’s treasure this moment together
Let me gaze into your eyes and disappear
I have waited so long for this moment
Day's work nearly done,
Warm glow embracing twilight,
Going for a dip.
Written in response to a photograph prompt of a glorious sunset over water. Meant to be read from the point of view of the sun after a long day of hard work providing life-sustaining energy.
With the closed door
behind me
in my back
I feel like before
like the last time

He calls silently
with the hand for me
and offers the place

on the bed

I feel every step
and I sit down
As I did
before knowing
what comes the next up
And as he touchs me
looking in my eyes
he whispers to me

‘don’t you fight’

and again I fly
far away
to another place
Wake up in the morning
Tired like the night before
Sad like the week before
Anxious like the whole month
There's shame and sadness and decline
And there's a relief that it's almost
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