The days became longer. Although all days are equally long regardless of the season, some days are long not only seasonally but by rewards they offer. These were such days—generous in sunshine and generous in offerings springing from the trees, from the streets showered by sunrays and dancing shadows, from beaches, from the faces of people. On one of these days, I met her.
Serenity bloomed in the outer place and inside my head I felt some knowledge, some understanding, that only bliss can teach; I felt her presence before noticing her in front of Gibson's. (I was able to find her because she was waiting for me in those gloomy days, shining through the gloomy thoughts, making gloomy days and moods bearable.)
I saw her and we walked into a long day with ease as if we knew each other or were forcibly separated and united again by a chance we took long before it arrived.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: days,love,seasons