A poor man with a wealthy heart strolled by a Temple
Reluctantly approaching a cross-road on his path
His eyes appeared perplexed; a worn out face
His appearance made his character a secret box for the world
Misunderstood, misjudged and mistreated
He lacked the black and white glimmer, the golden lineage
The smoke of the upper class exhausted him
Sophistication and luxury had not met his pocket
No one took time to unlock this secret box
To feel the essence of the lotus petals, despite the cradle of mud
He looked at the golden-red mirage on the Temple steps
In the distance it looked like fire blazing wildly upon the marble
Splinters of gold and vermillion suffocated the air
As he got closer to the home of the many-armed deities
He saw a veiled face amidst the flame
And almond eyes as melancholic as his
He thought the fairness of her face was brighter than the moon
He gasped at the strong rays of purity and innocence it radiated
The ailing and needy sat around her
She embraced each one with her telepathy
Chanting prayers for their well-being
Her tears cleansed their misfortune
She reflected the fragility of nature in its entity
As sensitive to sound as the deer amidst emerald trees
As sensitive to the shoe as the shoe-wearer
Immediately he knew she was a misfit like himself
Uniquely simple, impractically compassionate
Her heart melted at the sight of his scars
Which she felt through her feminine intuition
Even though he tried to hide reality with a swift smile
She watched him from beneath her veil
Shyness weighing down on her lashes
As he watched her with curiosity, but without expectations
For he was a good man, the saintly half of mankind
But she knew…only what the gods knew
That beauty and love has no reason, no time, no boundaries
It is an inexplicable, untamed optical illusion
Stars exploding in euphoria by mere coincidence
She was bound to the Temple and her people
A life already promised to model in an alternate picture
Framed with the black and white glimmer
He gave out his hand, politely asking for hers
But she kept on writing strings of words in her book
Her tears injected the veins of the paper
Words bled, expressing her despair and desperation
He turned back onto his path even more reluctantly
But she called out to him, softly and indecisively
He bent down to touch her feet, grateful
Through the windows of his soul and the affection in his smile
Through his joyful and beautiful façade
He told her that though the circumstances were unfortunate
Though he must move forward in this moment
He is leaving his heart behind
For never before had such a wish come true
For never before had he seen his despair reflect in someone else’s eyes
He held her hand so tightly, placing a key in her palm
That it became as red and warm as his heart
She closed her eyes to envision them in the same picture
She wore the deep red, she wore their passion
And he wore the colors of the sun, giving life and protection
But a wall of fire, rage and distress surrounded her image
She couldn’t tell if this vision would prove reality for her
Her people deem her imagination prophetic
Though the spheres lived with the uncertainty of never merging
They lived on with the hope of union in eternity
Where borders fell and she unlocked the secret box
Where love is pure and ones optical illusions are not judged
(Meesha Kaw, 9:12 p.m., 08-02-08)