caressed my palm with golden amber;
it merged with a new-found happiness;
a bliss that I longed for,
which earlier I let go, opening my fists
being at peace with my bargains and losses.
told me what no one has.
The warm, vibrant hue, caressing my palm subtly,
whispered secrets of freedom
and laughter and
spoke about a passion
that I never knew before.
My only noun ‘love’ and the only verb ‘to wait’
fused into one with my Henna color.
As I sit here silently;
my silent Henna and I;
we speak volumes
that echo among the forests of time,
piercing the cobwebs of many pale nights.
And then my Henna gathers all my despair
my longings, and
my lovingly crafted love notes
and transfers them into a tiny word
which now stands sublime and steadfast
seeking a never-ending forever,
and a permanence.