We Knew Not The Separation

We Knew Not The Separation



Statured amidst dews of petty things returned refreshed with

lungs full of Myrtle and Pine fragrance,

seeking serenity in a grotesques trammeling of worn– out Spirits

I roam, jostling fears and hopes and forgetting brand linen I ought

to wear– the only thing to be buried with…and the linen written all

over with Saffron and Rosewater all of my poems I was unable

to write on Friendship, for the poet’s sensitive Soul who once lived

in the Constellation of Peace-  the same I want to rebuild here,

and the bright stars felt upon wombs of our mother’s shall bear witness.

One day when from the bleach-white or rather Neon– light

skeleton of mine, the shine shall emit the rays from the sky– wide dome.

Again I returned from the mossy ruins I was seeking the Beauteousness

of your being  and you remember the wine we drunk even before

we knew not the separation. And there was none. As the souls of ours

merged long time ago and for eternity and a day more.