RINCON RECESSES

Remember? Sober, graceful Graciela,

Our first meeting in person.

You from the West and me from the East,

Never seeking each other even in dreams.

We conveyed our feelings for each other.

As if we have met in our lives gone by.

We are poles apart to communicate in words,

But we have not missed much,

Blessed we are in our muteness even,

To make journey into the recesses of feelings.

Who cares for the words, when hearts throb,

We don?t need those ramblings.

Even when we depart, we depart to meet again.

If not, rest assured we have more lives to come.

Remember to think this of me-

There is an amigo in this small world,

Ever wishing to be imprisoned in a Rincon.

~Ram Mehta~

More Poems By Dr. Ram Mehta