In my Delight and sorrow,
It’s your sincere face that I see,
For it fosters the spirit of tranquility
As I recall our Love in pain and glee.
Perhaps when the grapes ripen on the vine
They become a target to stones,
Yet the seeds remain firm in the soil,
For they are inseparable from its throne.
Love alters not with the ticking of clock,
Though the rosy-glow and silken attires dry,
But it bears out even to the lip of doom;
O’ so reciprocal, that none can ever die… that none can ever die.
~ Copyright © Surabhi Kaura 2016