Well.

I wish there was a way I could write something new for you.
Something that has not been contaminated by the white anguish of my former self.
But I have nothing whole to offer you.
It scares me.
I know that what I’m opening myself up to has the potential to destroy me- once and for all.
Am I ready?

I must remember that this might be a dead end as well.
But something is growing inside of me.
Day by day.
I wont call it Hope.
That makes it sound dangerous.
Am I ready?

I don’t want to post this.
This doesn’t make sense.
Does it?
WhatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoing?
Stopthinkingsomuch.
Stopit.

Am I ready?
Hell, yeah.

For Lovers Past.

This is not goodbye.
No more heartbreak, no need to cry.
No more hollow, icy sighs.
This is not goodbye.

Love comes again,
As we knew it would.
Others steal our hearts,
As we knew they could.
We kiss, we embrace,
But search for a face,
Unforgotten, as it should.

You say Life goes on,
And I know its true.
A new day comes,
For me, for you.
A new day comes without you.
And Life goes on again- its true.

Will you be happy?
Is this what you want?
My eyes, my songs, my breath, my taste,
Lovemaking in haste,
Teardrops and blood that went to waste,
Your days and nights will haunt.

This is not goodbye.

30.6.2011

Encounter.

You will come to me in the hour I wait for you.
In the shadow places I will wait.
You will come in green fire
and bloody footprints.
A broken bell in a broken chapel will toll
your arrival.
Your heart will be wrapped in silver foil.
And it will smell whiter than stones over an icy stream.
The perfect gift.
But you will not remember me.
Your eyes will be buried in my sockets.
And the sliver of your tongue between my lips
 will call my name.
The rose of my youth fades to blue.
A hundred bees stung my mouth.
I couldn’t save sweet honey for you.
Still you will come to me in the hour I wait.
This time- you will.
You always do.

A Perfect Memory

Tonight was different.

I closed my eyes and the silver moonlight glazed beneath my eyelids. It was getting harder to remember all the details, but one day, one perfect day remained etched in my mind. It was time. And I was going to put things right for us.

There had been a day when we had wandered through fields of clove, bathed in birdsong. The day was warm and uncertain. Spring sunlight seeped through rain-soaked leaves and the air was blurred and pungent with blossom, earth and damp. The space between us was charged with poignancy that lay in long-forgotten cities.

We came into an overgrown garden, starred pink with wildflowers. Springstruck, I moved, tranced through exotic scents that seemed so familiar yet unknown. A house was soon discovered at the top of the garden. Above the porch an odd rectangle of brickwork remained bare, shadowed by faint markings that looked like runes.

I drew closer to the ancient drawings. Letting my fingers run over the etchings, almost smoothed over by Time. “What IS this place?” I wondered aloud.

“It’s been here forever. I come down here to be with myself at times.” He replied.

Inside was a dusty rocking chair, ancient as its surroundings, and paintings of unknown people smiled at me from all directions. He pulled a footstool forward and placed it in front of the rocking chair.

I looked at him questioningly. “I want to paint your feet.” Then he bent down to untie my violet sandals....
                                        ***

I opened my eyes. The Moon had disappeared. Shane was dead now. I wish I had inherited a cold, passionless nature that would help me put it all behind and move on. I did have a powerful longing to pack my bags and never return. But here I was again.

I rocked slowly back and forth on the ancient rocking chair. Every creak made me more numb. I turned the lighter over between my fingers. What was I thinking? Shane would have never wanted this. But Shane was gone now and I did not care what he thought anymore.

Time stood still. And still I stared down at the death-tool in my fingers. “Toils of enchantment” I said. Then I put the lighter down and walked into the night.

The stars screamed silently at me.

 _____________________________________________________________
Jan 2010

                                                                                            

FAITH

                                          

                                      

  Faith ran barefoot across the patch of sun dried grass that comprised of half the courtyard.The visitors had had to wait a minute longer than required. As Matron of St.Jude's Boarding School,Shillong, she wouldn't normally be running such errands. But most of the managing staff were to return later that week and this was an on-the -spot admission.

  She reached the large iron gate and unlocked it. And then held her breath. The broad-leaved trees cast a shadow on their faces. A dark haired man stood there, holding a little girl by the hand. Faith smiled tremulously. "I'm sorry for the delay, Sir. Please do come in."

  He picked up his dusty traveler's suitcase and stepped onto the premises of what had been her home for the past nine years of her life. The winter Sun smiled on his handsome face and reflected off the pools of darkness that were his eyes. Something unquiet stirred in the depths of her heart.

  Pulling her veil lower onto her face she directed the man silently to the Principal's office. He spoke in whispers to the little girl holding his hand. And she couldn't hear exactly what he was saying, but it seemed like he was trying to calm her fears about the new place and the people. When she was within earshot, he was reassuring the girl that he would be back before Christmas and that was when Faith realised nothing had changed. Rob was the same reassuring man he had been ten years ago.

 Faith remembered the first time she had seen him. He was dressed in cricket whites, waiting for his turn to bat- a crusader leaning on his sheathed sword. A gentle Knight in a world then crowded with possibility. No opportunity cancelled, no prospect rendered void. Almost instantly she had fallen in love with him.

 But Rob had other plans. Faith being the Pastor's daughter had not had much of a choice but to watch as he boarded the train that would take him away from her.
"Good Lord, Faith!
 You don't have to cry!
 I'll be back in December."

 Nine Decembers had passed since that day.
Startled, she realised they had reached the Principal's office. Rob was finalising his daughter's admission. His daughter. Faith reminisced the times they had thought of all the names of their unborn children and ended up laughing together. She felt like laughing all over again.

She had learnt a few things in her time -one was to live with grief, or rather to live without it, beyond it. She had been alone a long time now. Existing, she thought, not only beyond grief, but also beyond love. Intimations of the past lay all about her and in her solitude, she chose to remember, to forget, to rearrange. Only very rarely, was she caught unawares, as of now. It left her shaken and gasping, clutching at the walls of her mind for support.

 But now Rob was coming downstairs with the girl. She stood at the end of a long winding staircase, almost ready to flee, when he stopped her. "Matron! I want you to take care of my little Rose. I don't want her to miss her Mummy while she's here." he smiled. The girl clung to him in a way that would have made the earlier version of herself cry.

 "And Daddy, wont you miss him too?" questioned Faith, when the girl's father had gone on ahead. The child looked down at her feet. "Daddy's always beside me in everything I do, wherever I am. I never miss him"

And Faith understood.

    ______________________________________________________________________

Jan 2009