shades of summer

Summer sunshine
with parched lips
I follow her gaze
that will never be just mine.

Fiery red.
Burning desires
Evaporate,into an afterlife
they tread.

Delicious orange.
Sunset in her eyes
crumbling into our horizons ever moving
. . .a mélange

Sweet Lime.
When our lips meet
sealing a love
sublime.

Mellow yellow.
Subtle yet taking over
my senses
into her afterglow.

Summer moon.
dancing in the lunar light
to a different shade
in a summer love we swoon.

Crimson crystal. . .

Senses, shattered
like the ripples of the moonlight
on a violent river
Senseless, I remain on this cold night.


Beyond reason
we broke into crystals
scattered but alive
It is not love, its a change of season.

Everything tainted
reflecting crimson
not from hearts pure
Bleeding , the brushes of our soul painted

Losing the luxury
of chasing each others shadows
we turn a deeper shade of crimson
Existing, only in my endless reverie. . .

Where infinity is a vast experiment of the soul. . .

I awake,
Realizing.
Senses awaken,
Grasping.

I am
Immaterial.
I am
An Aerial.

I have
Nothing.
I am
Everything.


I can see
sans the eye.
Without a wing
I fly high.


Fathom
My mind.
Sharp as it is
You won't find.


They 
Disable.
They
Label.

Still
I Remain.
In a world
of Disdain.

They look
outward
Seeking pleasure.
I swim inward.

I am
Infinity.
Myriad
Energy

Unfound

Inspired by Mrs. Saldanha. A graceful young soul who is 84 years old. My interaction with her spoke much of how the elderly feel when their children leave them after all the years they have been looked after by their parents. 

We spoke for quite some time and she told me about her life there. Since she couldnt see properly, she missed reading books at night before bedtime. She called me back to meet her someday and insisted that she would take me by rickshaw for dinner and would pay for it herself. 

I just hope all of us, the youth, realize that although old age does bring with it physical deterioration their core remains untouched. That core needs to be given love. It needs to be looked after just like they look after us and with undying care and love while we were young.

I am grateful to have met her. Just those few moments with her, have taught me much.

 

Lines on her face

Smiled at me, speaking

Of summers of 69 

And how gorgeous she was in her prime

Without being asked, she began

Reminiscing . . .

Of freedom and being brave

Now for the same she did crave.

Children in her nest

who needed her then

Are long gone to lands far away

But they never missed her birthday.

Silver hair neatly combed

As natural as her want for love

Shined in the light, in strands

Untouched by nurturing hands.

Lips craved

For words sweet

Respect for her wisdom true

And something besides bland food to eat

In her smiling eyes I see

A love that sees no bound

All she seeks is a humble refuge

In the hearts of souls unfound. .