Mid summer rains,
In a land that once was home,
A photograph to sense the breeze,
The calm, the noise and the fragrance of wet earth.
Hot coffee by the balcony seating,
A family in a friend or two,
The weather chill, then within
Of null rainy romances.
In reflection, I find none in memory,
Me, my romantic love and the rains,
All I have is romantic solitude
Of me and the rains.
All my romances share the same story,
One sweet November after another,
High tides of passion like monsoons bring,
Leaving a dry spell within weeks.
Recently I learnt of lotuses,
How they wake up to morning sunshine,
Each single day, all year through,
In rains, winters and summer noons.
Unlike fleeting romances,
With fiery sheets wearing off in cold loneliness,
There was probably just one time
I remember waking up like a lotus does to sunshine.
Then I reflect some more,
On romances devoid of rains,
I wonder of a philosopher who once said
"Connecting the dots backwards, is the only way"
I am wiser now,
Given up on love and romance,
Not the philosophy or adventure,
Only the active quest.
Now I believe to live than seek,
I become more open and love the play field,
Of new discoveries, extended boundaries,
Without expectations, I only feel.
If romance and love were exclusive choices,
I had be flipping the coin forever,
May be someday the adventure shall be such,
Blended with rainy romances and love lotuses - all very much.
And even if not, no harm done,
Each day shall still feel new,
With love lotuses to view
And family in a friend or two.
:)
ReplyDelete