Sun of the Past

 He would often meet me at pauses, 

Where the lyrics ended and the music started, 

Or that blank page between two chapters, 

He would often tell me, not in words 

But in beautiful silences, unspoken verses; 

Feelings are more powerful than actual articulation.

He would teach me how things were never meant to be told, 

The deepest feelings, strangest dreams and best love stories, 

Best remained in the beat of a heart; 

The secret of the soul, between yours and mine, 

Transpiring through eras, time and space.

And He would promise to come back to me, 

Every night when the city fell asleep. 

For We were such a beautiful, silent magic, 

Hidden from the world, yet in it.

And I waited and waited since dawn, 

For the noises to die down, 

For the lights to fade away into dusk, 

And again the music played on, 

Like a trumpet announcing His arrival, 

At the threshold of my heart.

And every day I would scribble on paper, 

Like a chant, in a trance, his name. 

And His name slowly turned to God's, 

As He arrives again, this time like an idol, 

An idea in the shrine of my Soul.

~ Suranya