Poetry

You nurse the tender pains
to feed your soul. In sunshine
of nothingness, that was falling apart.

And which was not―
the abrupt exit of inconceivable.
Me, still struggling to remain alive in―
thoughts of you.

The vast blankness of mind staggers.
Where the loud music, like tinnitus,
runs slow like crickets
and peacocks, giving a pause.

Then suddenly the crescendo
ups, symphony of loud, beseeching
rumpus, drowns the protest
of songbirds which were giving mating calls.

Listen my love, we are islands
in an ocean. There were no walls.
Only strong waves leave us speechless.