It wasn't the cold bullet
That pierced my heart,
Or the fact that you shot it;
It wasn't the motive,
The madness or the mart,
Whence you'd once bought it.
Many a blood drop had I spilled,
To see you spill but none.
Many a mean soul had I killed,
If fate cruelly had some fun.
It was none of these I died from,
None had potency, quite none ;
If only I'd heard the wise, some,
If only you weren't the one
...
You walk ahead, shawled; I quietly follow
A waft of your perfume drags me along,
How long have I been insane, I’d never know,
But today even silence echoes your song.
Words have no need; no time and no space
For either, the distances amidst us suffice
Their need, and on this path, at your pace-
Paused, if ever such need should arise.
Gently, the mellow of your voice lilts
To where I stand, breathless, immobile.
Heady breezes split your cascading stilts
And time, space seem to matter awhile.
I watch in wonder alone, here as we stand
Away, and yet as one; unseen, unknown.
Tantalized air, gurgles in utter disband;
Tempted, yet I stand quiet, and alone.
You do not yet see the eyes that watch
From the eyes that you see with now.
Nor yet know each mark, each notch
Which your feet make upon my love.
A bond, emboldened no space can sever
Nor time can weaken should it try.
Distance zero; here I shall live forever,
And here is where I shall once die.
…
A rumination of the concept of ‘soul mates’. Separation, time, space – they all seem to be rendered irrelevant to such two souls. The poem tries to describe this elation in one soul which is aware, while the other one is not.
