Won’t you write me a poem?

Won’t you write me a poem” I asked

“Should I?
What can I write when all I see is sunlight under your dark lashes, the curtains of midnight whispers. It lights up my emptiness that lies in the abyss of delusion waiting to envision truth, when your eyes smile to greet the dawn with your devotion to me.

Then there you are where I see you, a mist floating from yonder hills and forests that breathe green and teel. Before I see you wisp away there you drift a rain laden cloud, playing with hilltops and meadow swollen dales. The serene air is your breath. The breeze that caresses the trees your silence. The brook, your endless prattle speckled with giggles and laughter reminding me of the evergreen pine that your countenance sways with spring gales and summer rains.

And suddenly you blossom little stars of jasmine that shed themselves in a trail of perfume with your gait.

You have entwined me in your stole and I dance gleefully hanging on to your slender shoulders, the slope of viridian Vindhya ranges that gather a storm in my waking dream.

And when I’m speechless there you go singing with the aroma of the kitchen where condiments wait for your touch.

The Sun now sports a blush on the horizon of your reddened cheeks waiting to swoon in having gone weak with delight at your radiance of lighting the foyer lamps.

When I sit with you to tell you all of this , two moons sit in your eyes in a night of this darkened Earth and I am left breathless with the flight of stars that glitter from your glowing skin.

But most of all I lose myself with sigh of crickets ringing in the silence, of the day ending, and You my Earth twirls in a graceful dance to put back light in my soul with your true love. My kisses bloom rose petals on your scarlet lips.

There I am reborn a dew drop.”