When February became October

There is so much love to give but none to receive.

We all have Rumis in us but where are the Shams to recognise us.

Being able to receive is an act of love.

But my Shams never returned.

A love woven in absence bloomed brighter than presence.

I searched for my sun in the darkest nights of destiny.

A futile hope that he would reappear like rain after a long drought.

My heart bled tasting the iron of longing

How stubborn is my breath, a rhythm without my consent.

This borrowed life is still alive.

His absence became my poem

His love my prayer

The pen refused to write

Until the pain tinted the paint.

If all souls are one

Why then I cannot recognise mine without my Shams around.

He is mirror of my soul

A familiarity that felt older than time

I belonged to him in all lifetimes

Like a sacred scripture which only we understand

Silence was the most tender language we shared.

Just once, I want him back

To drown in the oceans of him

That one fleeting moment

When love returns

He left with a goodbye I didn’t see coming

The last sigh

He barged into my space without knocking and then left without a warning

Those moments were so full of happiness that even grief trembled

If i blink, this dream will end

Between what is said and silence, love remains to be felt.

We shared the deepest of emotions

The emotion of pain

The color of our love was as clear as our tears.

February became October

Falling leaves and broken mirrors

Reflections still felt the same

The seasons come back, they say.

Shed to make space for the new,

when one ends the other commends.

He was nowhere to be found

He was everywhere