A Yearning

She was waiting in his way,

Across the tresses of winter,

Humming to the sound of his footsteps.


The sighs he breaths,

Tunneling for their tryst,

Through winters, Across springs,

Into tulips of her mist,

they bloom.


The endless separation,

In hazy moonlight,

As he keeps walking without a shadow.

The lightnings smile.

Across the gossip of a meadow, 


Her night that would tore open,

A puddle that he would skip,

A breeze but cold,

With a shiver,

would force a smile to drip.


His scent, would sparrows bring,

As a dewdrop,

On her window they would leave,

Glistening, shimmering,

Tempting her winter to cleave.


The impalpable separation,

In hazy moonlight, 

As she waits in his way,

He keeps walking without a shadow. 


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