31st December, 1999
The cold winter night was dying
and the warm, sunny morn arising
when it was conceived –
when two hearts beat as one.
It blossomed as the mangoes ripened.
It danced with them,
ran up and down the stairs.
It was ever present in her stares –
looking at them, looking only at each other;
it held their hands,
and reveled in their embraces –
moments they came together, closer,
moments he felt it grow with them, within.
It was nine months old,
and Fall had arrived –
He was exalted and couldn’t wait –
for the one that never came.
It was raining fog and clouds that evening,
when it left him.
She left him – lost, and alone again.