I believe that
Names can physically
Mold a being
Without human intentions
As accidental drops of ink
Muddies the water
Yours follow the opposite
And being true to its essence
You are indeed eternally ‘PURE’
Pure, in the winter lakes
Of your soft pensive eyes
Color of the earth, the dust of existing
Pure, in the crescent
Of your laughing eyes
Hiding no sorrow
Dragging me along with you
When it descends
Pure
In the ripples of your soul
As I felt every drop
Seen in your dazzling smile
Unseen, in the dreamer’s dream
And I, indeed a dreamer
The ‘MOON’, the ‘STARS’, and
‘A MYTHICAL JEWEL’
That radiates not
Within or without
Except under or carrying
Your light
If only I can be your moon
A source of comfort but
Only at your darkest
Never to steal your shine
Except
I am merely a solitary bird
In love with the spotless lofty sky
I may praise it
And lament in its silence
But I can never caress it
Possess it or even
Comfort it
So it shall be
For even a storm of the sweetest dreams
Might taint the purity of a cloudless night
Written on Feb 4.