love: for all seasons

Alleviants, spring and love, hesitate in descent,

Haltingly dipping toes as a strange coldness departs

And passivity welcomes a warm embrace of divinity

Burst forth from a dam holding passion at bay;

Passion that wills the ground green from white,

Threatens buds into roses which blush with the redness of the heart.

The mild-mannered breeze punctuated by arias of the avian

Saunters through hair already disfigured, an intoxication

That causes even leaves to randomly orient.

The pale azure reminds of the eyes that belong to one’s infatuation

Then the glint that follows a starlight twinkle

Where you lose you and find more than you had.

Love in spring is a cherry blossom that reigns eternal,

One where beauty and strength abound in equal measure

Through contours of itself.


The sweltering heat of summer lies futile

As flaring passions ensure an intensity

That the sun ceases to match.

Sweat that adorns the brow, sweeping across layers

Results from heat a passionate desire brings.

When the perfumed sunlight in reckless abandon

Is lost in the glow of your other

And the shimmering moonlight in a ballet around darkness

Illuminates a face that does not need it.

Air precipitating with heaviness of a desire uncorked

Lends a moistness to the dry burrs of the ground and soul

So we digest that which sticks and let slide hesitancy

Which embanks upon inhibitions deep within.

Peas in a pod, ready to harvest come season

In a ripeness awash upon two bound in love.


The weather for all moods then descends,

Divine tears trickle through or spill

Where clouds end but horizon lies limitless,

Dampening feeling with exalted celebration

That drenches and melts away walls that surround.

The wetness of every drop is imbued with a freedom,

A song that resides only within it, and its particular

Ravishing coldness cements the uniqueness of a connection

That many feel but few attain.

Drops that trail along the face, pleasantly cool,

Until you share a soaked kiss, as the orchestra in finale erupts.

You hold their face in your hands, hold the droplets on their skin upon yours

As they burn and etch

To ensure feelings remain unforgotten

And moments remembered, although redundant to the truest form.


As autumn withers the sedge and undresses trees,

The ground orange to commemorate fallen leaves

And love ages among bare branches, with taste

And resounds with itself like fine wine.

Mirroring spring with the occasional breeze that chills,

Autumn, decadent with dance and rustle, sets in.

At the hearth, the undying fire, bellows beckon

To swirl further and rise higher

In anticipation of the untrod path every story takes.

Each fabric of this world permeates with dynamism

And the sweet respite like a deep-breath before cold depths,

But time lies still for lovers unperturbed

And second-hands frozen in the instant, or so it seems

To them, for time incessantly stretches dribbles of bliss

Into eternal but is fleeting, for even eternity in their arms fails to last.


Winter approaches, and warmer sleeves donned,

Pulls together those that lie warm in another’s arms.

Snowflakes plummet and are brushed off lovingly,

Blessing each with a fractal-like singularity

And as nature withers in hibernation, it incubates

A careful, precipitous confluence of two threads

As they knit into each other; over, under, over, under.

The sun seems numbed and a silence falls

While they fall into each other, sorrow and all,

Welding attachments into permanence.

Feet that once marked snow alone, now make two,

Trudging hills beyond, discovering a newer bliss.

Love fills the chalice to the brim, and winter freezes so it never spills,

The hauntings of loneliness banished away, as love truest

Brings two together, and together they stay.



The photo is taken from Arnaav Bhavanani’s album: metro.pol : nyc

metro.pol : nyc



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