when love spoke to me for the first time

comet

When love spoke to me for the first time

I failed to record it

If I remember faintly

A comet crossed our path

A comet of good repute

For whom no one sang a headline or

Or broke any news.

 

Till there was this little quiver of voice

I had forgotten

I had ever spoken to her

The sun went down carrying along

The languid flavours of spring flowers

 

The comet comes now and then

With no curtain raisers

Lightening the load of the

The school girl returning home

Happy to be home

In spite of layers of sweat

 

The remnants of a lost city

Get ready for revival

Swelling with sea waves of hope

Rising again

to fall.

12 thoughts on “when love spoke to me for the first time

  1. At a cosmic scale, falling comets are a blip. For the individual though, the blips constitute the cosmos. I loved how your poem conveys both the truths, especially in the way it ends, reasserting the progression of the cycle, quotidian and yet exclusive.

    Liked by 1 person

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