a cup of coffee for you...

I want to make a cup of coffee for you

at dusk

when the sky will be fuchsia pink.

While hearing the tip-tapping rain in the wind 

and the thud thudding heartbeat of the soil

I will let the liquid dreams and

fragrant desires to blend and simmer.

I will wonder, as I whip gently the

pearl white of the milky cream,

how the coffee tastes against your

lips, your teeth, your tongue.

I will stir the sugar and allow the magic
of the steaming cloud hang heavy and

I will test the ready ness of the cup 

imagining

will it sting or will it be just right!

The vapors from the storming cup

like rust golden beads on my forehead

and I will pour that anticipated light brown

into your cup,

a shade that fits between the tamarind of my skin

and the golden desert sand of yours,

almost the colour of my possible child.

that obstinate headstrong life-force ...

 I wonder how I

constantly tread this hyphenated zone!

If I turn off the light the moths will die

and so will the bats if I turn it on.

Should I spend life searching for an anchor

or shouldn't I just tear off the sails

and let it be?

How good is living

on a handful of yesterday,

an existence

neither real, nor fantasy,

like the alluring horizon

between the Earth and the Sky,

at an arm’s length away,

but ever distant?

Why do I fill my book of poems

with haphazard listless things?

A mail box with drafts, remotes, phones,

a crossword page of an old newspaper,

five odd books, a gift that you had refused to take,

some songs that I listen to endlessly,

a few old snapshots;

all flung heedlessly, uncaring,

here and there;

Just about anything to fill the void

that once has been your side of the story.

YET

even now,

 between the breaths

lurks a stubborn dream

defying all other doubts;

A dream that often morphs into a bird

and take colourful wings

preparing itself for an ambitious flight

to soar higher and paint the sky.

And I throw away my existential despair

like a pair of old, worn out shoes

and I remember to plant a seed, all over again,

and wait for the moss green sapling

to raise its obstinate head!