i will meet you there

There is a field out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing. I’ll meet you there. ~ Rumi As the silver clouds which are swirling and running an errand across the flickering horizons augur auspiciously, I know you’re awaiting my arrival in the temple sited by the babbling river. Perched on the marble floor, I see you aflame like camphor and

inevitable

The unheralded sojourn of blooms and silky pollen dust, the accomplice, ever so often tugging along with your thoughts, tiptoed from beckoning byways of a distant past and moved to my quiet forsaken nights. Life had issued an edict ordering your permanent tenancy in my heart. A hushed song poking through blossoming bougainvillaea hanging across

blossoming

Surreptitious climbers noiselessly creeping along the parapet sidle away hurriedly When your satin fingers wickedly graze my fiery skin An avalanche of wispy dayspring-blossoms burgeon amid your ardent foliage Warm sun streaming through your skin tassels me Pulling up me short and my heart skips a beat An effervescent medley of joyous seasons Softly coalesces

last summer

Drowsy summer of last year when fragrance was nipped off the blooms, And the crisp scrunch of dry leaves rattled through dense sandalwood forest, When parched limbs of trees stricken in years blasted the earth sending their roots on the hunt, Last summer comatose days, in peril of dying, like etiolated leaves dangling in the

here i love you

Here I love you.In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.The moon glows like phosphorus on the vagrant waters.Days, all one kind, go chasing each other. The snow unfurls in dancing figures.A silver gull slips down from the west.Sometimes a sail.High, high stars. Oh the black cross of a ship.Alone.Sometimes I get up early and

letters

I purloined the letters stashed between your luscious books in the shipshape library of my sixteenth spring As I leaf through those lush drizzly lanes, your Lisianthus letters feather my lips, hushing me into my somnolent years A lingering redolence of incense tiptoes close behind me during my brusque truancy to the quaint idyll Sodden,

your hushed and honeyed ways

I scrunched up my eyes to peer through the incandescent shaft Of your hushed and honeyed ways The haunting sweetness struck a cord with my eternally fluent night You crawled in, playing a hose on my sable days Splashing out an Orphic blitheness, there’s no getting away from the fact That I’m endlessly drowning into

spring

… and then spring turned out to be a soporific day tugging on pendulously braided vines of honeysuckle and love-stricken wisteria hanging from our reaming hearts in splendid isolation, wreathed in languorous thrumming of unbidden convergence into afternoons’ fishing season … 🐟 Painting saved form artbyrachel.artweb.com

beyond the realm of affordablity

I have loved you in the itchy moments of bizarre possibilities at the same time coming to terms with the fact that I will never chance to hear “Now I pronounce you man and wife,”. Yet, I heard the tapping of your tentative steps shambling up to me in my bittersweet longing for shared bliss.

when they crashed into each other

And that’s how Darby and John crashed into each other or so the story goes… ” Woe betide anyone who comes closer!” She drew her sword from the sheath and stuck it to his neck. “Better set your face against any temptation.” Her ruthless gaze flared up. He quickly seized hold of her hand and