warmth
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My Name Is Love
Love does not ask for recognition. It does not demand validation. It simply exists—floating, wandering, giving. It carries itself through the winds of time, sometimes reaching its destination, sometimes dissolving into the unknown. I am love, a dry leaf drifting upon the river of your sorrow, carried by your unspoken grief. I do not resist Continue reading
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Warmth of Love
Warm spring bathed the floor;Sheer curtains fluttered inward,The breeze, constant and mild.Your back towards me,And eyes lost in the distant mountains,Where lilies washed the horizonIn a collage of myriad hues.How wonderful the sight was—Not the horizon, nor the spring;But you,And the loveThat you are my truth.And you walked in,Towards me;The curtains parted,The breeze sneaked in,As Continue reading
bhaskar saikia 