I laid my pen and line to rest for twenty seasons
as the frost settling in my mind and fingers, warmed up to dream
only to waken again by the grace of a lover,
a muse unlike any other,
a kaleidoscope of raining colours.
With the twinkling of your eyes,
the words fell out of my head,
parading on papers for the world to see
just as my veins welcomed the warmth of creativity.
You are the vision behind every verse I'm founding,
thirteen in counting,
a finer motive than fresh air and tranquil sleep
every fibre is clawing at me to keep you close
to never fade away like a withering rose.
Will my senses still serve me without your touch?
Will I ever write again if I let myself forget
the melody of your voice and your silhouette?
I'm not ready to find out just yet.
We have taken a vow, my pen and I
to keep you alive, for an age or two
or however long it might take to find
our glory in someone new.
Copyright © 2020 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Thinking about how I stopped writing for 5 years until I met Jordan and he inspired me in ways I didn't think possible. I'm still writing because of him, and about him. I feel like I can't let go, that I'll disgrace his memory if I do.