A Feather

I was but the feather,
Which swayed in the gentle breeze,
You, being the breeze my love,
Took me along in your stride.

Moving with you,
Holding back but for a moment,
As you pushed me higher into space!

Oh! But I was the delicate feather,
Ever afraid of falling off!

But you carried me along,
Now as a gentle breeze, then as a strong wind,
And together, we danced on,
Traveling far, into an unknown land of pleasure,
As I moved on, to wherever you took me.

- Gitanjali.

A Love Story

He told me a story,
The story of an angel,
The day she went for a stroll,
On her silver horse.

The roads were dusty and
Golden dust rose everywhere she went.
Cutting through the wind she was,
Her silver mane following through.

She met him here, as they crossed ways.
He was astride on the darkest of horses,
And was on a merry ride!
As he shouted out her name,
A thunder it was for us to hear,
She flashed a brilliant smile, which was returned with chivalry,
And the lightning cut through.

It was love at first sight,
And she climbed into his horse,
As she did, the silver stars from her skirts,
Scattered to earth,
And rain it was.

As they rode away together afar,
A trial of pink was left behind,
For the angel blushed,
And the twilight came…