Standing patiently outside my window- he waits.
His silvery caresses enter my room,
But he watches from afar-
Ever patient; ever pleasant;
Expecting nothing.
And I wait impatiently;
Trapped within my window.
Someday he will demand I bring him in…
Someday he will grow impatient like me…
I wait that someday he may want more than this fraction;
I wait that someday he may wish to see me whole.
But he makes no demands.
Tomorrow, he will come again.
Unfailingly.
And he will stand outside.
Unattachedly.
I know that the day he enters- he will fill up my existence-
Suffocate me even.
But I invite the encroachment.
For then, he will be mine.
The weight of expectations is much easier to balance
Than the suspended state of artificial equilibrium.
His silvery caresses enter my room,
But he watches from afar-
Ever patient; ever pleasant;
Expecting nothing.
And I wait impatiently;
Trapped within my window.
Someday he will demand I bring him in…
Someday he will grow impatient like me…
I wait that someday he may want more than this fraction;
I wait that someday he may wish to see me whole.
But he makes no demands.
Tomorrow, he will come again.
Unfailingly.
And he will stand outside.
Unattachedly.
I know that the day he enters- he will fill up my existence-
Suffocate me even.
But I invite the encroachment.
For then, he will be mine.
The weight of expectations is much easier to balance
Than the suspended state of artificial equilibrium.
Extremely well said! If there ever would be a programme called the INDIAN POET IDOL, this piece of work would win hands down! A new star is born on India's literary horizon!
ReplyDeleteSo Blogger did insist I use 'Moderation' before I allow your comment... but I know too well, that exaggeration is to you what sarcasm is to me! :P
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