A chance traffic halt
is a silky path
on the freeway of decades.
A silky path
brought them
a first glance
that day.
A silky glide
through youth
and rostrums of attraction.
The fabric gets coarser,
the blasts of cotton balls
in summer
stuff the mouth
with plangent words.
You don't always measure
those lines
or those words
and the city
has its way
to stick broken feathers
of turtle-doves
around your hair
and face.
**
Longevity is a thrum.
It very often fools you,
makes you feel
chequered
around insecure edges.
But a silky path
is far from the getaway plan
to distant states.
Two of them dot you.
Two of us define you.
Two of you
bring your
first glances
from that single encounter
to bear fruit
on the tinkle
of these decades
and a surprising new day
comes.
A new day comes,
underlined by a single throb.
***
MUM-MUM & BABA, this is my anniversary gift to you, a poem that traces that first encounter in a traffic halt thirty years ago to this new day.
HAPPY ANNIVERSARY AND GOD IS WITH BOTH OF YOU, IN THE SPIRIT OF TOGETHERNESS.
YOU ARE READING
WORDS ON THE HORIZON
PoetryI present to you my new collection of poems which will be reflective of my present states of mind and compel me to translate my deepest desires and waves of thoughts, brimming with emotions. ...
