The Rain Fed Stream Poem by sayan sil

It was not the wind,
That dried my sweating face,
Long that I had done nothing,
Long that I had traveled in a path
In search of what I don’t know.
I didnt have the courage to face my past,
The future seemed rosy, but filled with the same moisture heavy cloud.
I had washed the ocean
& said it was not clean enough to froth your feet,
I had blown over the desert, like a sand storm,
Yet found it too meager to find u a place
I had asked for a bit of red from the sun, a bit of Green from the forest
& shine from diamond, yet could not figure out what paint has colored your soul,
What grain has made your body and what water,
Had gone in the making of your eyes.
My muddy mind..
Lay beneath the stream, that once caught your naked body,
You mashed me with your feet on your way up to the rocks.
A lot of it has washed away
And has carried your scent, I don’t know where..
The thought of an impossible miracle..
Fuels my possibility of life,
The touch of the rising sunrays, slowly trickles down my cheeks,
Caressing them as if they were their loved.
Devoid of all the air that mixes in my veins..
I run everyday, every clock tick..
Every moment..
Not to miss the scent, that the rain carries now..
Not to miss the droplet that would fall on me.
N create ripples,
And deep down inside, where even the twilight falls short to touch,
I would carefully wrap another drop, in the little pebbles I find there..
In the dream of making you alive again,
And we would dive in the whirlpool of your laughter,
To be born again, again & again..