Her breath contained a signature scent, wild orchids secretly send,
a fleeting dab it was, but a swift lightening sketching the sky line
she need not speak, her mere nearness makes his heart spin like a top,
a lance dipped in honey smelling lilacs, hits there with poetic force.

Bleeding love, he is a tree bloomed before season, raining flowers,
why this, her presence or absence, an excruciating ordeal?
no green horn , his love has seen seasons, many a spring and fall.
anything physical has it's limits, this is beyond all comparisons!

The moon beams scorch him, blazing sun loses his power at noon,
poetry makes him wistful, when metaphors speak of hidden yearnings,
stop that haunting song, in a pitch high, difficult to bear it's taunt,
reminding her ,singing about her love, an ambiguous fantasy.

Even those
with
the iciest blood
and
the bluest hearts
still have
moments
where they wish
there was someone
they could wake
in the middle of the night
and whisper
"This has happened to me
and it is not ok
and I am scared."

Just look at her!
She's so radiant and flawless!
Her footsteps leave marks of perfection
She walks with confidence
She's not afraid to walk with her head *****,earning all mans respect
She's not afraid to breathe because this air is her own!
Her smile is so contagious
She makes it look so effortless!
Something most people couldn't do for years she does on a daily basis!

Little do they know that she leaves behind a morbid home.
A place where her heart is unknown.
Where punches get thrown like dice
Where she walks on thin ice!
Where her tears put her to sleep
Where she prays to God and gives Him her soul to keep.

But before she goes out into the world she masks her face with the ashes of her soul.
Because she's perished on the inside
And flaunts whatever is left of her tarnished soul.
She approaches the world forgetting about her pain
But still holds on to the thought that each day she sees might be her last.
So she smiles
Yes
That woman with the smile on her face.

The plan was perfectly drawn
      nobody doubted it was flawed,
but every day and night added
     particular effects on the sketch,
each changing season had a whim
     that made a clear impact on it.

Even the most perfectly laid plans
      need to be approved by spirits
the cosmos will incessantly unleash,
      that in no way anyone can control.

The plans would never go wrong, I thought,
    her invocations to the mysterious
forces of universe, alone make it happen,
    in all humility now I realize!

Deeply I cherish, the feminine power,
       that walks with me matching step to step,
  in the true tradition  of brahminical wisdom, I chant:
      "Not for me, but all this sacrificial offering,
for the plants, animals and humans, the whole of universe.
       Each and every speck in this limitless cosmos
is webbed together, for ever and aye,
    Oh!   the consciousness that pervades in all
the connecting stream flowing to the ocean,
      be the lighted lamp, burning within,
dispel once and for all the darkness of ignorance."