Ever changing is Time, as the Things.
So do people, feelings and seasons change.
Good that memories don’t.
Opening the huge closet, Simoni was about to
Start the Journey to the bygone lanes of his memory.
The closet of red velvet, lined with glistening gold,
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
So do people, feelings and seasons change.
Good that memories don’t.
Opening the huge closet, Simoni was about to
Start the Journey to the bygone lanes of his memory.
The closet of red velvet, lined with glistening gold,
Opened into precious memories
Of years gone by!
There were rings, bells, books, notes, book-marks,
Plaques, and trophies.
All impeccably placed, clean and shining.
In one corner was a rolled red muslin.
Seeing it Simoni remembered it!
Unrolled he the muslin with peace,
Was there a strand of hair,
And note of thanks! - Still Fragrant in that youthful Love.
Of years gone by!
There were rings, bells, books, notes, book-marks,
Plaques, and trophies.
All impeccably placed, clean and shining.
In one corner was a rolled red muslin.
Seeing it Simoni remembered it!
Unrolled he the muslin with peace,
Was there a strand of hair,
And note of thanks! - Still Fragrant in that youthful Love.
Started he reading through the lines,
Between the words, and letters.
For started surging the invisible waves
From forgone years of abandonment.
The waves of feelings, emotions,
Vulnerability, fear, pride, honor, and Love.
The note, the letters and that
Most Beautiful handwriting!
All appeared like the Harp of Venus,
What was more essential for Simoni,
Was the hidden Symphony.
The Symphony of that pristine Love.
The color and texture of the paper has aged,
Simoni’s eyes have gone weaker,
His fingers has wrinkles many,
The Love from Her, is now lost
In the commotion of years gone by.
But then, what was still young, fresh and unchanged -
Are the memories, the throbbing of the heart,
And that surrender in the space of Love,
Simoni was going through.
It was all the same then,
It is still the same now!
Between the words, and letters.
For started surging the invisible waves
From forgone years of abandonment.
The waves of feelings, emotions,
Vulnerability, fear, pride, honor, and Love.
The note, the letters and that
Most Beautiful handwriting!
All appeared like the Harp of Venus,
What was more essential for Simoni,
Was the hidden Symphony.
The Symphony of that pristine Love.
The color and texture of the paper has aged,
Simoni’s eyes have gone weaker,
His fingers has wrinkles many,
The Love from Her, is now lost
In the commotion of years gone by.
But then, what was still young, fresh and unchanged -
Are the memories, the throbbing of the heart,
And that surrender in the space of Love,
Simoni was going through.
It was all the same then,
It is still the same now!
It was about a century ago,
When the Love was born,
Out of an innocent liking.
In that space in time and dimensions,
Before She loved him, a century ago,
And after she changed, and never loved him again,
When the Love was born,
Out of an innocent liking.
In that space in time and dimensions,
Before She loved him, a century ago,
And after she changed, and never loved him again,
In that space behind and in-front,
Simoni was sailing on his suchness of Love,
With shimmering phantasm of
Emotions, lust, longing, sensations,
Rising and dying on the eternal ocean of
The Suchness, and Permanence
Of the Sanctuary of Simoni’s Love,
Always present in Peace.
His possessions in his secret closet,
That strand of hair, the note, the book mark,
The ring, the bells,
All appeared to him keys to the mystery,
The Mystery of Life and Love,
The Eternal, un-changing, constant and un-altered,
Axis of his every youthful Love,
For Her.
Simoni was sailing on his suchness of Love,
With shimmering phantasm of
Emotions, lust, longing, sensations,
Rising and dying on the eternal ocean of
The Suchness, and Permanence
Of the Sanctuary of Simoni’s Love,
Always present in Peace.
His possessions in his secret closet,
That strand of hair, the note, the book mark,
The ring, the bells,
All appeared to him keys to the mystery,
The Mystery of Life and Love,
The Eternal, un-changing, constant and un-altered,
Axis of his every youthful Love,
For Her.
For more poems on Michel Simoni and his love -
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Copy Right © All rights reserved - Samrat Kar
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