Mystery

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Mystery

To P.

 

I am futile of loving you

without even seeing

your handsome smiling face

without even once

melting in your embrace

without any hope

to meet you ever soon

it’s easier to reach up for the moon…

 

Dense feelings are exploding

in every single cell

unreasonably burning

I know…oh, well,

I have dreamed of love

so deep and complete

mystically transforming every single bit

of my being and my very soul…

 

And now, I know

death only can be worse

than futility of asking

am I blessed or cursed

to love you unconditionally

It’s my verdict and reward

I can’t escape, I can’t rebel

Against the universe’s plot.

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Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

Mahabhava’s Poems (10)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Duality 0
Mystery 0
Waterfall 0
Soul Mate 2
To You 1
Our spring 1
To J. 2
To A. 2
Aftermath 1
Dedicated to my beloved husband 1