With Myself

Unwritten words are the best I write

Unsaid words are the truest I speak

Unseen sunsets are the loveliest of all

Unsung melodies are my masterpieces

An old wound decides to bleed once more

A spirit wants to sing along

A cloud longs to turn into grey

A wind whims into a storm

Then her prayers touch my skin

Through a bracelet of sacred threads

Her sleep she wishes off

Into my slumber less eyes

And from a place far off

I get a message that I am

And will always be dearly loved

And she who was given her breath

In the same womb as I

Holds my hand, or plants a kiss

On my mosquito devoured cheeks.

Or gives a hug  that warms my soul.

He doesn’t often say it

But I come to know

When he gifts me a book

And quotes lines from a page

And wipes off a tear

The lines that say

“Our daughter. Meanwhile was fast

asleep herself, one little hand showing

Above the bedclothes. Clenched in it

was my heart”

And this, what mortals call Love

Brims my being

And I smile and laugh into tears

Tonight when I met the mirror.

It smiled back at me

and said “You’re beautiful”.