My words

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My words are falling incessantly
from that oak tree
lying in the refuge
at the bottom 
of that big old giant
waiting for the mercy of the wind 
to gently glide and take 
away to promised lands
where they were strewn again 
or kept in the folds of the 
those yellow pages to remind
us again
how beautiful 
our love used to be.
My words are falling as the 
broken star
deep in the thickness of the night
falling
and floating endlessly in the
trying not to get lost in the deep oblivion
of the darkness
not to miss the bereaved sight of my lover
so she 
can wish upon me.
My words are dropping as
the sweet droplets of water
those tiny globules
as the tears of the heaven
of all the broken hearts 
lost in their deep soliloquy
not trying to lose their identity
till it parches the soul
and quenches 
your heart
roaming freely
My words,
My verses,
my syllables,
my metaphors,
are all
an ode to my love
in an unspoken tongue
born out of my muted heart
taking birth in the strange lands
an aubade
drenched in the crimson light
washed in the ambrosia
of my love for thee.
My words are all I have
My words are all me.
 –Megha

 

34 thoughts on “My words

  1. I love how you describe words. Each verse starts out with a beautiful line about words. My favorite are “My words are falling as the broken star” because it sounds sad but is a powerful image at the same time and “My words are dropping as the sweet droplets of water”. Water drops are beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Serendipity relished! I am so far behind reading your posts … just waiting for a rainy spell (and we have been in a drought for many a week here!). Hugs to you my wonderful Megha!

        Liked by 1 person

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