Thursday, December 01, 2011

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”.