Repetition

-
Dust gathers with the dawn.
Eyes adjust to welcome light.
Night seems a fading memory
that repeats time and time again -
here at once, and at once is gone.

He remembers her most
during warm, doting dusk.
Memories shared float through his mind
at all hours, but finds her
occupied in his thoughts as night
invites the starlight
to host every ephemeral evening.

Night breaks as mellow sunlight
streams through the cracks of horizon.
She runs fingers through
her rivers of jet black hair.
She stares at her morning tinged
silhouette, curious how
he fares so many miles -
whole worlds - away.
Is he okay, in every sense
of the minuscule word?

The lax air of day
envelops her as she writes
heartfelt music, which tugs,
tears, and ties us down
in a bundled mess,
unable to cope with the notes
of musical articulation.
He must confess, last he heard
her musical canvas, he saw the firmament
bend down, sparkling at each sound.
He felt it was love.
She knew it was emotion,
nothing more than a composition
in the business of auditory illusion.
But she hoped - how she hoped
so very dearly, that it was love.
As for him, he hoped it was more
than feeling captivating his soul.

Alone, they felt, in their respective worlds.
Sleep blankets them from cold,
harsh reality - mirrors cast
warm light in its reflections.
As they drift away to comforting dreams,
they mention each other
with whispers on soft lips,
near-prayers as they sigh
and lie in bed to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vague, story-like poetry tonight.

Cheers!

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