Whispers in the Wind

Sounds by thousands coalesce
into a silence deep,
condensed and passionately calm.
Heartbeats resound in the
dark recesses of the mysterious
gully,in a fastened pace,just
as if we have met each other
suddenly,in a moment tight,
a quick glance and a deferred look...

Empty corridors and lit-up stairways
get nostalgic over a sunny evening
when we were designed to meet,
not strangers,not friends,known faces
and unknown objectives entwining lives,
opinions and fate.Hilarious guts,
mysterious mirroring,quiet,blocked
abstract moments.Things changed
and hidden perspectives played games.
Awkward feelings and a link somewhere...

Eyes,they say,are windows to one's soul.
Some eyes are so eager,vibrant,talkative
that one forgets the silence that remains.
Words flow like rapid torrents of gushing
water through the honey-mild stolen glances
and secret smiles that stop at the edges
and laughter bursts out from twinkling eyes.
Sudden moments alter orders and the curtain
falls away,as eyes look into eyes,deep through...

A thousand words can be spoken,they say,without
uttering a single word.But nobody says what happens
when silences speak and utterances contrast
with a stony stillness and cold vibes.
Who knows but a dream may lie?Beyond explanation,
words give evidence to dreams falsified and tears
dried on cheeks flushed with embarrassment red.

Whispers in the wind brings magic moments back
and whiffs of the past gleaming with a hue
of stories unearthed and unexpectedly kept
in shades and folds,of gulmohar flowers
and remembrances gold as Baby-Austin cars.
She remains inaudibly quiet,as if her whisper may
break the bubble and cast her away,from
the shadow world and falsified images of
tender love.He alone knows what plays within,
his hands full of shrapnels and roses,
waiting for something,somewhere to begin
or end.
Magic remains in the history of secrets.