Divinity Of Love

To the ordinary passer-by,

She was just another rose

In the bouquet of life.

To my searching soul, 

 I saw through her folds

 Petals hiding the mould.

 So I stood by the curb, 

 Watching the flower girl sell her lot.

I stooped after a pause, 

Like cars on the crossroads, awaiting the countdown.

I plucked her out of the maze, 

As somewhere 

A tourist would do on a hill slope.

I walked to the cafe across, 

Coffee beckoning another debate of sorts.

A silence prevailed,

Voices across the tables broken into crispy echoes,

Died, absorbed in the coffee pot.

The rose smiled, red,

 With the hue of life.

Sips of coffee marked interludes of conversation,

Smiles accompanied the quiver of her petals.

I reached out a touch 

To snip off one layer.

Behold! 

There lies another cover.

No further coy smiles, 

No curves the world notices, 

No silhouette of her clothes 

No jewellery is adorned.

Therein lies bare to my eyes

A heart 

Of petals. 

 

Another coffee!! 

I whisper. The waitress responds 

The heat in the air-conditioning

 Stifling. 

I slip off the jacket 

My trembling heart caught in the pocket

Amongst the keys that chain life.

The sleeve flicks away her inner petals.

My thin shirt is no veil to my wide-open soul.

The coffee sips break on the sand dunes of limits.

The boundary of norms turn soggy 

With the reason of undercurrents.

Continental shifts of views, clash,

Form the cleavage of her peaks

Of divinity

Her inner voice,

Like a streak of dawn, the first ray catches me.

Ignite my soul to a raging storm.

I implode, 

The egos shattered, 

Reason overtakes the blindness of choice.

All want to merge into one.

The crash of an empty cup, the drag of the chair,

Sounds return.

She smiles across my table 

Her hand engulfs mine. 

Rose petals dot the table cloth, the stem in eternal peace.

My soul lies touched,

Transformed.

I take in her glow, her eyes a smile,

Cheeks blushing to the weather,

The sari clinging to her curves, 

Her bangles jingle to the draft.

 

Beyond these petals of her adoration,

I see the person. 

To the ordinary passer-by

She was just another rose.

Love is divinity, 

She whispers.