You look at me like the early morning sunshine that hits the blooming lily,
calling out to her, pulling her baby petals out so slowly that her transition doesn't reveal.
She flowers, growing up, and to gaze out at the sun,
He, who lured her out to the world that awaits, splashing his light across her breasts.
She got up from her sleep and dreams amidst weeds many,
and fallen leaves of sizes, imploring, in want of attention.
In need of a warm caress, even as someone does pass.
You talked to me like the winds to fawning chimes,
animating metal, arousing clinks and taps of wood.
I sat in front of you, in all your obliviousness, listening ;
like an enchanted forest living in the hands playing a harp,
The dead who listened and returned to live, against the courts of nature.
But I only went close to being dead, living in a trance, all in one.
Listening to the spirit that spoke.
Time sped against itself, as I fought for moments of togetherness
to stay, to accumulate what I heard, and accentuate the silences full of unnoticed stares,
to the reflexive smile that sent sparks up in the air,
flaming what I might call mine, because it burnt me so hard. I felt like I was on ice ;
wanting hot beverages in total contrasts to situations that hold,
living where I wasn't supposed to be.
Roaming in dreams yet to come alive.
We walked together in brief moments of eternity,
like the waves kissing the shores always wet, like snaps of the fingers
of a man, a slave to music, wherever it played.
Like the one moment in dance, the air under feet reaching the ground from the past
attitude, knowing which lines of the wooden board would engage the next touch.
You rolled out my sensitivity like a carpet, my skin feeling every step, living in every touch.
Like the need of a baby to be rocked at her father's chest. To be lulled to sleep.
I saw, I perceived, floating up and about, like a balloon released of it's content,
in slowness, in grace, visiting all eons in the present, blowing out ice patterns
in the air, and falling limp later, on the cold snow. She didn't know she could create.
Like a woman chased by a predator, running as fast as wind,
in speeds she never knew she possessed. Meandering about fields so green,
so that she wouldn't fall to scrape her knees, or to trip on beds of flowers.
So that even a valley of flowers don't awaken her.
I stood at the faint distance to see you smile at another,
waiting like a farmer on his parched land, sitting on open throats of the earth,
calling out to the rain, asking for the heavens to throw open, what it locks in it's greys.
But it was summer and rains were far behind, I was there in a light that you couldn't see.
In a land of songs that you couldn't hear, in numbness that touch doesn't manifest,
In browns swallowing withering whites, sunshine that didn't last,
and my thoughts that you were dumb not to catch.
And so, I end up seeing you as what I see you.
Something that you might be or something that I only imagine you to be.
Seeing little bulbs on a decorated deck like stars falling off the black skies.
Soothing myself with talks that I proposed for you,
listening to it all my myself. Seeing it run in my head.
To the living boy in a muddled head of words, paint and music,
who just crashed open, taking with him my hope.
Something that was mine. Something that isn't him.
Silence, splashed colours and crumbled words cried together,
in soft whispers as I tried to gather.
But my hands are too small to hold them all,
to throw them back into the sets of my dreams.
For now, there is nothing to bind them with.
No him to put them behind and gaze at the beauty of it.
So, i just walked on.
Catching them all in the soles of my feet
hurting myself as I stepped over dreams that fell.
This was my entry at Saarang Writing Awards 2013
