February 14, 2010 (2040 hrs)
Pondering over the question asked,
In retrospect, I sometimes wonder,
Over sweet nothings said, unsaid,
That in our distant past still wander.
What was it that brought me to her,
Her to me, and two of us together,
To fall in sweet love, only to rise in it
That too, in most adverse weather!?
Was it that very first moment,
That had lent me Icarian wings,
To rise and embrace Hellnic sun
Fearless of the fall it brings!?
Or was it being best of strangers,
When our friends saddened the eye,
Unconditional friends to each other,
That time’s tides may as well try!?
Or was it our two mutual fears,
To dare love and to trust again,
To fancy another Venus-flight,
Be deceived to another pain!?
Was it the way in which she healed me
That first made me fear clock’s chime,
The one in which she would vanish,
And leave footprints in the sand of time!?
Or was it the black night cursed,
Or the morning prayer that I said,
To savor the light of my day that
Brightened in every step she tread!?
Or was it her confession of love
That echoed like a slow dance,
On the racing (heart)beats of
The most wonderful romance!?
Was it the first storm of patient love,
That subsided to leave us stronger,
Or dreams to reap fields of our sow,
When I could question no longer!?
Or was it the hour of mutual solitude,
When love’s silent gaze enthralled me,
Wishful fantasies, those long-preserved
In amber of time, at last liberating free!?
Or was it her sweet remembrance,
Before icicle of clocked-love melted,
When like two determined children,
Time’s stubborn windows we pelted!?
I cannot say for sure which of these
Binds us together in divine bond,
And bring her and me together,
For this life, eternity and beyond.
So when they come and ask me,
“What makes you and her click?”
I say, “A bit of every snapshot,
You’re welcome to take your pick.”
Pondering over the question asked,
In retrospect, I sometimes wonder,
Over sweet nothings said, unsaid,
That in our distant past still wander.
What was it that brought me to her,
Her to me, and two of us together,
To fall in sweet love, only to rise in it
That too, in most adverse weather!?
Was it that very first moment,
That had lent me Icarian wings,
To rise and embrace Hellnic sun
Fearless of the fall it brings!?
Or was it being best of strangers,
When our friends saddened the eye,
Unconditional friends to each other,
That time’s tides may as well try!?
Or was it our two mutual fears,
To dare love and to trust again,
To fancy another Venus-flight,
Be deceived to another pain!?
Was it the way in which she healed me
That first made me fear clock’s chime,
The one in which she would vanish,
And leave footprints in the sand of time!?
Or was it the black night cursed,
Or the morning prayer that I said,
To savor the light of my day that
Brightened in every step she tread!?
Or was it her confession of love
That echoed like a slow dance,
On the racing (heart)beats of
The most wonderful romance!?
Was it the first storm of patient love,
That subsided to leave us stronger,
Or dreams to reap fields of our sow,
When I could question no longer!?
Or was it the hour of mutual solitude,
When love’s silent gaze enthralled me,
Wishful fantasies, those long-preserved
In amber of time, at last liberating free!?
Or was it her sweet remembrance,
Before icicle of clocked-love melted,
When like two determined children,
Time’s stubborn windows we pelted!?
I cannot say for sure which of these
Binds us together in divine bond,
And bring her and me together,
For this life, eternity and beyond.
So when they come and ask me,
“What makes you and her click?”
I say, “A bit of every snapshot,
You’re welcome to take your pick.”
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