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Between the moon‘n'cloud, the hedge‘n'flower, the lightning‘n' thunder,
Each playing on the other's fervor, suffering's a virtue they honor,
Bound together, confident of the other, in thrill of a boundless chase,
In the rhythm of touch ‘n' go, with a limitless thirst for an embrace,
Happy -destined to be a plaything, return for assurance, yet stall,
But mortal we remain. To love that well, break the spell, let fall,
A sign, or the year's disguises-glimpses, shall stand in between & rout
In the dust of meetings ‘n' partings, we corrode away in doubt,
Like a stricken deer, pursuer out of sight, loses purpose in its gait,
Why must one hide and the other always seek, settle for a toss of fate?
Play not with my heart, it may not shatter or break,
Lose me not to habit, it may simply lose the power to ache
Miracles they can believe in, under his celestial sky, we make it a little easier.
To them, time says it's merciful, I still vouch—''No! You Are''.

poem by Seema joglekar
Added by Poetry Lover
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