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Nima Tharchen

(19/1/1989 / Bhutan)

The Encounter

I seldom spent my time taking fragments from my past,
But, solely her face appears from a string of cast;
I met her in the most unusual trend,
This is somewhat, how it happened.

There was an hour before dark,
I was prepared for my mother’s cacophonic bitter bark;
I wondered if that woman would shower a hint of mercy,
In a June evening, in a deserted alley;
I caught over ridden taxi,
In a great haste, I sat unnoticed who was behind me,
A demigoddess, gossiping and giggling gracefully;
Through the rear mirror,
I piously gazed at her;
She had the prettiest teary eyes,
Of what I would consider, ideal size.
She had a pair of the rosiest cheek,
Her hair was charcoal black and sleek,
Like a warriors blade under the moon;
Her voice the singing nightingales in June,
Her giggle, Beethoven’s melody in its finest tune.
I speculated if she noticed me,
I softened, why would she;
Did her teary eyes stare at me,
Nay! Anyone but me;
I halted the taxi,
For this mute had reached his destiny;
I saddened for I no longer could prolong my glance,
I took my last chance,
I took the meekest glance.

I walked home unknowingly, forgetting my mother,
The bitter shrewd barks of her;
My thoughts circled around when I would see her,
My angelic accomplice rider,
Would ‘FATE’ the mysterious rejoin me with her;
I was crest fallen until I saw her,
My saintly neighbor.

Submitted: Friday, October 21, 2011
Edited: Friday, October 21, 2011
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  • Luvo Mjayezi (10/21/2011 8:00:00 AM)

    Hi Nima, I thoroughly enjoyed your poem, especially towards the end. While I was reading your poem I pictured myself in my many of such experiences the paralysing effect of the dawning epiphany that reason and doubt can shut down the deepest and most profound of feelings. The reminiscing of these memories puts a smile on my face, I think a lot of guys and even gals can relate with your poem. (Report) Reply

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