The River Between Us
Even the river forgot to flow when your pure feet entered its water.
The fish abandoned their dance until your prayer was complete,
and the river held its breath, honoured to cradle your devotion.
As you turned toward the temple,
the priest gently placed a tilak upon your forehead.
There you stood—
a beautiful soul, ankle-deep in the river,
beneath an amber sky,
your crimson scarf resting gently upon your head.
For a fleeting moment,
the world forgot to move.
...and so did I.
Your eyes carried a silence
no words could ever imitate,
darkened gently by the kajal
that only made them speak louder.
Your green lehenga swayed with the evening breeze,
while your crimson scarf guarded every prayer
that escaped your lips.
Then, before folding your hands,
you looked at me-
with the innocence only faith can wear.
In that single glance,
my heart whispered a wish
it knew the heavens might never grant.
I longed to call you mine...
yet we stood on opposite banks
of the same river. I wished I could become the bridge
the river never was,
so your prayers
and my promises
might finally meet.
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