You Will Sense Me Yet Again
You will sense me yet again
When, Where and How? I know not,
But our rendezvous is preordained.
Perhaps I will become a
Creation of your creativity
And maybe, pouring myself
Through the ink of your pen
In a melodious verse
On the milky leaves of your diary,
I will rest on your lips.
Perhaps I will become a leisurely
Breeze in the warm summer,
And gently blowing the
Moisture off from your temples,
I will embrace your Soul, and
Endearingly kiss your breath.
I know not when, where and how –
But you will sense
My presence for sure;
Maybe I will turn into raindrops
Of first rain from spring,
Jewelled on your lips and eyelids,
Calmly drizzling down on your skin
And passing through your pores –
I will rub my coolness on
Your flaming chest;
Look closely then, there will be traces of
Moistness of love, not yet dry.
Perchance we shall
Meet again, yet this flesh
Will grow old with me;
‘Twill will perish into ashes,
But the imperishable beads of memory
Are knitted with a sacred thread;
I will dive deep to collect those beads,
Knit those beads of breath,
And you will sense me yet again.