I am waiting for my lady

I was waiting for my lady.
My heart,my senses,
My eagerness was waiting for her.
In patience I awaited her coming,
Every passing moment
Stopped for a moment
In front of me, for me.
I waited as a figure
Tensed to stone to jump to life –
Terribly animated life.
I was waiting for my lady.

I heard a sound,
I shivered,
The cat mewed.
I saw a sudden light,
I felt a hot geyser gushing out suddenly
Out of my heart to burn my brain,
I heard a thunder.
I felt some sigh on my neck,
My vigour flickered,
It was the wind.
Her pseudo footsteps I could hear in every little sound,
Every petty sound were her pseudo footprints.
Nature reflected my anxiety.
I waited for my lady.

Then,
I heard,
I heard her real footsteps,
Quick,
Quick and anxious.
A sudded flash showed me her face –
Ever innocent, ever submerging to me,
For me.
My heart in utmost rapidness
Twisted and expanded and oscillated.
A tiny yet vigorous tornado raged
Inside my Self,
The current of time forcefully put a dam
To itself
And stood in curiosity
And unmanaged elomelo-ness
To see what happens next.
I tried to forcefully lax my breath
But barely could.
My outside smelled of tensed peace.
Awe was in me and I in awe.
She has come,
My lady.

She came very fast and
Reached me slow – after she saw me.
Reached me slow with gliding steps.
She was panting,
She was trying to hide that,
And in style she came,
Sat just beside where I was perched.
And as a lady came my lady.

Very very slowly then,
Her arm glided for mine,
Her nimble tender fingers
Approached my broad ones.
Every every second
Moren more tensed my fingers went.
All my senses, all my blood,
Concentrated even even more
On those fingertips
That for her’s their existence stilled.
More she approached stiffer I turned,
As a spring is compressed before it jumps.
And I waited I waited,
I waited to feel my lady…
And I waited,
I looked at her face –
Her anxious eyes changed
To expectant eyes
Then suddenly – fearfully doubtful eyes.
She spoke with her teary voice,
“Was it not for me that you waited?”

I with my entity stopped for a moment at this question.
I looked down where our fingers have met.
She has touched me?
Her question whirled around me,
Her tears a layer of white mist
About my atmosphere.
But how?
Whenever I dreamt,
I dreamt for her , about her,
On my eyelids are engraved still
Her image, I see it now…..
I see it … I … I see …
Do I see it…..
Is it her …..?
That what seemed so clear before
Suddenly has turned hazy.
I looked around ——–
Where is she?
I looked around more,
Where is nature?
I looked around further,
Where is time? Where is vaccum?
I alone and only alone,
The ultimate form
Wandering the
Ultimate formlessness.
Or is it
Just a madman’s whims
Or a blind
On trail of the most bright
Yet silent crystal,
I know not.

I am still
Waiting for my lady,
For here in me
I can only wait –
Or in some dream
I may dream I may feel
And then wait,
Wait and wait again.
I am waiting for my lady.
Ps- elomelo is not english. Its from Bengali. It kindof translates to a light confused mess. It stuck with me so I had to use it.
Its a poem I wrote about 6 to 7 years back.
Found it. Thought its still relevant.

2 thoughts on “I am waiting for my lady

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