Note - 25th April, 2016

As the morning tea rolled of my tongue
         the heat passing through to my gut
I missed talking to you
        about the millionth thing, I thought I should share

All of it comes down to conversation
             and then when there is nothing much to talk
there is the unwavering hug of music, not heard
                the all encompassing grip of dances not danced

Oh how good it would be to hold your hands
    and listen to Chopin's spring waltz wafting in the air
building further on the essence of what we spoke

I love the way you do not allow me to digress
my thought process is safe when you align the paths for it to take
              else I am this grey old soul, digressing his way
into paths that feel stubborn and to leaves that rot
I love it when you place it subtly
                  letting me know I am wavering

I take delight in the companionship
the ludicrous extent of shared logical passions that bring glee to us

It is like the rains come to cleanse the trails of yesteryear
like the volcano bursts to build new hills and meadows
like the forest fire engulfs all to bring in the smell of  anew
like the tsunami wreaks in disdain
                 only to find the a warmth enveloping of new growth    
I am like the baby slipping out of his cocoon
       crying out loud when life begins to enter its veins

I love that I am not lost, like before
             I love that you bought back a dying stone
with your lithe hands, working its wonders
 slowly, steadily building me with nature's marvels
                     that you carry as tools to plod, paint and sculpt

I love you such that my dirge I hear
    and it is but a tune by the gypsies and their lore
and it sings that her love is what made his world sublime