A sepia coloured
Photograph
In that old album
Is all I can touch
Of you,
Now.
Cross-legged on the floor;
In your bridal finery-
A wistful expression-
Dreamy, anticipating
Perhaps, the myriad dreams
To unfold and blossom.
Your chin resting
On your palm,
That cupped your face-
Pointed, alluring!
I remember that moment-
Well!
If it were not for my mother
Standing behind us,
It would have been
My hands cupping your face!
And...
Hush!
I quieten the
Welling storm of memories.
I never told you
How lovely you looked,
That moment!
And now,
When I say it,
I wonder, can you hear?
And longingly wait
For that moment,
When I will.
Finally.
When I meet you,
In eternity.
Usha,26 February '08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The layer of time covers up the original colors..Still it stays on...With that sepiatic effect and a hope that in eternity it will recall all the warmth and fill up unfinished corners of wishfulness... Awesome is the word ma'am...!