rain

Posted on | November 10, 2009 | Comments Off

It is normal, perhaps, natural enough-
For me to think about you. May be, it is-
The age I am, and the fact
That you are the nicest thing
To have happened in a mostly rootless life,
Lived in unfamiliar worlds-
A bedrock of constancy, even after you were gone.
So many ways to justify,
Thinking of you, again-

As the rain falls all around me
In a mildly feverish drizzle
Wetting the skin, but not quite soaking it
As if a parable of our love.

It is raining, and it is, perhaps, natural
That I should be thinking of you
After these many years, again-
Of the windy walk that night
Sand and pebbles against bare feet,
Only the breaths of the wind and the sighs of the sea
Keeping us company, hand in hand,
You hair blowing in the wind, brushing my face
Together, and drifting apart, perhaps blown in the wind,
The soft touch of fingers intertwined,
Belying the desperate grip of two hearts floating away,
The surf blew a familiar drizzle on our faces-
That night as you went-

I still wonder; the salty taste on my lips
Was it the taste of the sea, tears-
Or the last kiss?
One last salty, wet warmth that stayed on the lips for so long-
After I had no longer the sea, the wind, the tears,
Or you.

And today, I am there again,
Walking barefoot on wet sand,
The drizzling rain is mingled with the spray of the sea,
And you are no longer there.
It is just the wind blowing in my face,
The sea is still my lips,
But they are salty, wet-
And cold.

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