Tender Love

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Love is a beautiful connection,
Walking hand in hand,
Whether it's by the sunrise,
Or during the dark nights.

So we walk hand in hand,
Holding together our love,
And the promises we made,
Around the divine fire.

The path is difficult,
Covered with pebbles and thorns,
Hurricanes and storms,
But love is the light guiding our way.

The ways of the forest,
Are different from the civilisation,
Terrible things await us at every turn,
More and more dangers unfold.

A small thorn pricks my foot,
And I almost stumble,
I try my best to not shriek,
For it may invite more trouble.

I don't wish to disturb the pace of the brothers,
We need to reach a safer spot soon,
Before the dark night gets even darker,
And so we can't stop for a second.

But Raghunandan, He notices,
That my grip on His hand loosened,
And He turns around to see,
Why His Sita is in discomfort.

He gently bends down,
And lifts me up,
Carries me to a nearby platform,
And looks after me.

He takes my foot in His hand,
And smiles at me, to assure me,
That I'm safe in His hands,
And soon I'll feel even better.

Although tradition doesn't allow,
Husbands to touch their wives' feet,
But here He is, the upholder of traditions,
Maryada Purushottam Shri Rama serving me.

He gently removes the thorn,
With tender love and care,
And massages my feet,
He doesn't say much but His actions do.

Though I can read it in His eyes,
'Site, I am sorry you've to endure all this,
I'm the cause of this discomfort,
Please forgive me, my love,
I can only promise to be by your side and help you ease this journey."

I have tears rolling down my eyes,
A man so secure and strong in Himself,
That He is not scared to serve His wife,
No ego, no annoyance, no anger, just pure love.

His touch is tender,
And it heals my wound instantly,
His love is as tender,
For it heals my soul permanently.

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