Half green and orange, the pumpkin fields.....

You drove me to the ocean;

 the sky was blotting grey; undecided whether or not to rain....

The only sunshine was your blonde hair flying in the breeze.

i could feel every little thing that settled around you.

Every little thing that settled around you came from the forest,

from the herbs,

from the waters,

from the native songs of the land,

from the snow laden peaks,

from the wings of an owl,

from something far away.....

from so far away

to notice i

had to squint into the unseen to see

what came from other skies beyond my human eye.

You carried the savage untamed silence

with something melancholic in your joy....

....Or was it the other way arround ?

Looking at you i was lost....

Lost in the voices of a forest..

.i realised

that whatever you had borrowed 

you borrowed from its unfanthomable  spirit .

i would have liked to ask you more about it, but, it became silent on my lips.

i resigned to the idea that it was far too ancient for my reach.

Late afternoon,

we sat on a rock, like two wolves in the faint sun.

we watched the distant waters ripple - till it rippled too in our hearts.

Together -  we clutched tightly to muffle its cry

 we held each other, we held the ocean, we held the threads of our silent souls....

our bodies clad in a single bark of a tree...

leaning,

learning,

...learning the meanings of leaning.

Our skins birthed in new odours of us

 gathering our feelings,

New flavours

 of us tasting the taste of each other....

.we inhaled every little newness

Inhaling the satisfactions in long breaths and silences.

Surrendering quietly,

our quietness becoming a language

 in which everything transformed into the simple

just as it was so

in the core of everything.....

' Language ' -  shinning in the dark of our eyes, intensely.

glittering silence - glittering with feelings.

So we looked at each other - gazing into our smiles

till the heart understood everything without staring for the truth in words.

'This understanding '- will return to hug us again....one day.

One day when we'll walk in sorrow

somewhere

alone

and our footsteps will be the only thing we shall hear....when

Yesterday will swell - a large unfallen teardrop

not yet ready to leave our eyes.