(A grove where Philips and Maggie used to meet)Mill on the Floss
Why men mummify their past ?Build mausoleums in their minds and heart ?Why they nurture the ashes of time?And always breathe hard and fast ??... I was yet to learn.
Your presence, always aloneLonging for Maggie's sideIn Red Deeps,where limpsHad made a bed for autumnEmbarks a journey for tears ...
Your pure eyes, frustratedBy the loss of "single chance of happiness"when rise to watch two birds singingJust above the head-branchI learnt -the Power of the MomentsTheir Might and before themA meek, timid , and prone I.
Yeah philips! I can't see any deformityIn your poetic look- In your unsaid wordsWhich always struggled,with palpitationsVictoriously asserted themselvesIn the rudeness of Time.
I'm not shocked at allTo see myself in Red DeepsFollowing an old philosophy -
Longings can never be brushed aside -Which was some day, strangled, I found, Could never dieBut became an Oasis of Life.