Innocent Love
Coming down from the mountain, standing beside it
Clouds touching all over, on your clothes.
Purple flowers in your ears and some blue hues in the background, the Himalayas sky has letters.
All these seemed so ordinary, so natural next to you
Like the swinging in the vegetable market on a winter day, baskets full
Or the red quarters by the railway under the teak trees, as normal as flat wine.
Your disheveled gaze,
Yet nature is only looking at you.
The sun is descending from heaven, passing the long morning of Vidarbha Ujjain.
White Parijat flowers wouldn’t have bloomed, it seems.
After seeing you, it feels like they will bloom from now on.
It’s not just a feeling; it’s not an illusion.
I am certain
They will bloom from mountain to mountain.
Far from people, rarely seen after many ascents.
Even without hearing all this, you are smiling, your scarf swaying. I didn’t return.
For now, taking a deep breath, the moon's silver swans are swimming in the greenery.
About the Creator
Silent Night
Lover of words and stories, I write heartfelt poetry and fiction that touch the soul. Join me on a journey through emotions and experiences, Let's celebrate the beauty of storytelling together.
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