Love In The Time Of Fever

Love hanging Like a pale

Blue cloud over the city

Enveloping it in itself

A thin web of nothingness

Dewy, misty, pearl like

Falling from sky

Onto empty dusty roads

Onto slopping roofs

Sliding down dirty glass panes Like finger of water

Stretching itself, ghost like

Forming a puddle on marble stone

And evaporating when sun comes out.

To become a pale grey cloud over us

We walk our lives to various places

Aimlessly, as it falls, unknown to us,

And without befriending, fades away

Parts of life, like dregs in a coffee cup

Are rinsed away, by unknown hands.

And life is re-arranged neatly,

On the shelf, to be picked up and used once again.

The mystery of life unfolds, as told

By people long ago, in the darkness

Of the womb and the story begins

When eyes open in daylight

Unusual words join together to form new meanings,

Unknown forces push the pen, which writes unflinchingly,

Because unknown to us our fates were written long ago,

In the stars circling each other in the universe.

Mind's eye sees design in every day life,

As patterns emerge from routine habits,

And waits for fate to play its game

And lets irony play its twists of/in life.

Love and revenge, love and hate, love and life,

Those cruel daughters of blessed fate,

Play their entwining games with ever changing rules Wishes, ambitions, goals, desires

Such wishful thinking and childish play,

Is but clay in hands of destiny

Whose tiny fingers write on pages of time

Endless stories of endless lives

Mind wanders in dark crevices,

Seeking knowledge,

Design or patterns or unknown devices

To colour, paint, mold and join together,

What purpose they serve, in this life,

The greater design hidden in them,

Lie just below the surface

For us to scratch, seek, and understand

But for this, many centuries will pass

Before the first artifact is discovered?

And its true purpose will lie unknown to us?

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