longing
The moment of my dream, I seek today…
the one I remember with your love…
the one that lasts in your remembrance.
I feel your touch in every pain I cry at night…
I look for you in my shadow, in the dark…
and I know you are with me, still.
Though safe in my heart, you are not in my mind;
though forever in my thoughts, you are not before my eyes…
I wish there were a destination for this sorrow I adore each day,
in this parted life of yours and mine…
Just your memory stays with me, day and night.
I held my breath,
and moved nervously toward her;
I held her hand,
and whispered my love.
Far from all the situations,
I offered her everything…
I held her in my arms,
and pressed her lips to mine;
I moved closer to her,
and promised a great time ahead…
Although I stood there long,
I am still standing there.
So many nights passed by,
and I wondered every day;
but she never looked back,
and I told myself, “the time wasn’t right”…
Yet I closed my eyes,
and dreamed of her again.
It hurts, knowing the reality is far away,
and I don’t like it anymore;
but I glanced back through that time,
and asked her to be mine again.
She didn’t understand — just like the last time —
and I offered her one final goodbye.
Glancing out the window one night, I see
hundreds of wanderers — of mine, and of yours;
all are a part of this night, and apart from the daylight.
When all are forks of my one, or many, desires —
what shall I understand from the faces of time?
It was long ago, in the bazaar of love,
when ships were sailing in the hue of sand,
and we travelled miles together —
but spent the rest of the journey in hate.
I hide myself in the sand of time,
passing through and through that mile;
she comes and goes with a hope —
one day, or one life, I’ll have her.
Like a desert with no reason for death,
I never could stand a reason to love again;
but with the grace of words, and of silence,
I speak my hate again — with a love for her.
She is a miracle of storm,
flowing away with every gust of the tale;
some are stories, some are fable —
but I just settle with the dream of her.
And with the loss, I conquer the fear of losing her.
A sea of hope, or the death of desire,
and the curling thread of thoughts
conspire — the smaller, the shadow of light;
yet harder it is to get by, in this time of thine.
But I cross the bridge with the company of her smile,
and in all that is left — the happiness of her, and mine.
Swiftly, she is flying through these dreams of mine;
and every time I look — just look — into her eyes, I find my own.
I hide myself from her world,
but how could I ever do that, with this heart of mine?
Oh thou, the love — tell her this:
I have always loved her, and I always will.
Oh thou, the queen of heart — show her mine;
how helpless I was when I missed her, and I always will.
Oh thou, the lover’s dream — let her dream;
I always wanted her happy, and I always will.
Oh thou, the night’s shine — let her shine;
she always smiled into my life, and always will.
Oh thou, the cloud’s traveller — let her wander
through my thoughts, and see how much I love her, and I always will.
Oh thou, the moon — go, and perceive her;
how lonely I am without her, and I always will…
Just like you.
1:10 a.m., 25th May 2012.
I am still struggling with my mind and its thoughts, wondering what happened last night. Is my wildest fear — that she now knows of my madness for her — finally coming true? Or has it already happened, and in my ignorance I simply couldn’t see it?
The solution isn’t complicated; it could even be the simplest thing — just letting her know. But the mismatch of mind and heart, of fire and water, of past and present, keeps competing inside me — and, I think, inside her too. What can I do at this particular moment?
So, as before — but with new evidence, and new feelings — I write, again and again, to map out my thoughts: my cloud of worry, my pursuit of happiness, poured into my poems and my blog. And I hope that one day she’ll read it.
Near midnight, she says goodnight to me, and I wonder if it is the morning of her dreams. She holds my breath with her voice, and unsettles me with the familiar mischief of her charm — and I wonder if this is just the beginning of her love.
She blinds me with her eyes, and I am lost in the endless depth of it; I wonder if it is only a part of her world.
But sooner or later, I wake from the dream. I find the reality exactly the same — except that, this time, she is not by my side.
Her eyes, her laughter, the endless talks —
and I lose a part of myself each time;
just like another parting memory,
I bid farewell by morning, and smiled with her.
An hour of my chase,
and the glory of being known to her;
deception, and yet so beautiful a gift,
though it scares me — with her wings, she flowed away, as ever.
I look into her eyes, madly,
like a child with an endless candy in my heart;
and once again I follow a run of my own,
as she walks away, the shore behind her.
I glance at her slyly, beneath the first daylight,
feeling an eternal beauty of nature so close to mine;
until I wake, to witness the beauty —
and how I open one reality into another dream tonight.
Another day, and another night;
and with the run of life,
I wonder which is the more real face —
the world of hired aspiration,
or the world of endless desire?