My Muse- Poem on Love
Human beings are complex creatures very difficult to understand, and even more difficult to bond and to love. Since every human being carries a universe in his or her eyes.
The process of figuring them out, binds me with them and the slow hands of the clock helps me to get into their skin. And allow them to know about me too, if they wish to. People are like open libraries and once you start studying them, you cannot get bored of them.
Those that I got bored with had no personalities, they feared a lot, couldn’t be trusted upon and needed to be nursed like a child. While others felt happy and free in their own company and didn’t crave much attention. Therefore, we have an inseparable bond which doesn’t break or shakes if we don’t communicate or meet in person
If you look carefully. You can foretell what secrets, pain, struggles and the weight of unheard stories, they carry in their heart. They say— you need to bare yourself to others, so people can dissect your personality, to know you better.
But is it so? Is it that difficult to understand a person, without speaking much? I differ from this opinion. Because, I always had intimate connections with people I never spoke much to. As it makes me curious about them and makes me wonder how they are in general, what they think of me, what good and bad qualities they possess, which gives ample of opportunities to observe.
To keep your mind and eyes open to the little details they leave behind. And some become a beautiful subject, while others become your muse.
This little piece is dedicated to one such person that I’d love to call my muse.
“The woman held this effortless charm which twinkled even when she howled.
Though I being the dominant one, easily gave in and allowed her to vent,
Since it was one such side of hers that people rarely came across.
Which meant- You were special enough to see her theatrical display of emotions.
I haven’t necessarily felt what it is to be loved but when she ranted it felt warm,
Which could make your thick blood flow like a river of elixir.
It felt good, nice, a bit gentle like it felt when we were young.
I knew, I loved her and this wasn’t momentary love,
It was one such feeling that could only be felt and not expressed.
And feelings were supposed to be felt in the centre of your heart,
and never to put on display.“
Dedicated to my loving sister.
Let thy spirit be high in love. Namaste
