THE BREEZE

THE BREEZE



In the courtyard, was erected the marriage pavilion

Around the small fireplace were seated the bride and groom,

To accept each other in the witness of sacred fire.

The small flames of fire were twitching and roaring,

fighting the wind to survive.

The tired priest was yawning and murmuring.

The door in the front wall was closed

and the roof was the dark soaring sky,

full of melancholy clouds.

All were sitting in peace, huddled together.

Lost in indifference and full of dullness.

Tired, blank and staring at the flames,

among others was seated I.

In my small village, at the midnight hour,

It was a marriage in the winter night.

All of a sudden, among those numb moments,

the door opened and she entered.

And entered with her a gush of fresh breeze,

full of her fragrance, full of life.

She stepped forward and I saw her,

behind the veil of flames.

Glowing was her lovely face,

Shining were her beautiful large eyes.

Full of utmost beauty of life,

Smiling was her very countenance.

And she sat down, among others, close to me.

Priest was chanting loudly the hymns,

Gone was the dullness of cold night.

Like a group of intoxicated serpents,

the flames were leaping, dancing & swaying.

Gone was the struggle for survival.

The roof of sky was filled with twinkling stars,

Gone were the melancholy clouds.

The courtyard was filled with her fragrance,

Gone was the late night stupor.

Every bit of that small world was welcoming her exalted being.

And there she was sitting close to me.

She smiled every time our eyes met,

And every time, I felt fresh showers of her fragrant breeze.

In those lovely moments, full of her,

Close to her and completely soaked in her breeze,

Never to be dried of her again, was seated I.