The Promise

'There is no silence in poetry.' As I swing back and forth, surrounded by an abundance of petals, I still remember being a stranger, in a foreign land. Sun shone so strong that day, as I traveled through the 'hustle and bustle,' of pastry shops and fruit stalls, until the path became narrow and dusty. Soldiers stood guard in tall towers, as pious ones prepared for prayers - but my footsteps of fate, were only devoted to you. As I entered through an iron gate, anxiously anticipating our first glance. I admired fragrant blossoms - until your scent drifted past, like a sweet refreshing tepid breeze. Innocence of your soul reflected, through those almond brown eyes. Shyness of your sleek smile, created an angelic visage - pious ones supplicated in service, but it felt like I was the one in heaven. So many poetic thoughts came to mind, yet I could not find a metaphor to justify it - yet poetry can never remain silent. As your eyes told me a story, that has yet to be told - I saw you hiding in trenches, dug deep into your heart - so I spoke to you in a language, only you would understand. Promising to take you away, from all the trials and tribulations, plaguing your mind. One day when our hands lock, we will gaze towards horizon's hued tones, lost in the delight of twilight's twinkling stars, till sunrise illuminates through our eyes. Together life will become beautiful, as we venture from Giza's pyramid, to the temple of Artemis. Watch as our footsteps wash away, along white sands of Boracay beach, as we bathe in its calm 'crystal clear' sea. Yet nothing will be as beautiful as you. 'Poets are patient, but their pens are not.' Simple Musing Silent One 25 May 2020