Under the clear blue sky of a rainy evening

the flower has opened wide

to savour the warmth of sunshine

on its rain drenched petals.

  

She can still feel the rain drops

trickling down her head, along the cheeks,

down to the neck and still further down…

 

She can still feel that tingling sensation

which forebodes the approach of that someone special,

someone close to the heart.

 

She can still feel the pattering raindrops

dropping on her forehead - slowly, softly -

like the nimble fingers of a drummer

making music sublime.

 

The humming that starts within

is now a circle around her.

Slowly, gently, as the drummer's nimble fingers,

the lips touch the forehead.

 

The soft humming within

absorbs the force of the bee's hum;

Oh! for such heavenly music!

Who is playing the bow

on the tight drawn string within?

 

The gentle, tentative touch of the bee

responds to the passion flowing out of the flower -

now unmindful of the pain of the first sting!

If pain is the companion of such blissful music

then let the pain flow!

 

Forgotten are the smaller pleasures of

warm sunshine on a raining evening.

Forgotten is the desire to spread the petals wide.

The only desire now

is to enclose this heavenly bliss for ever.

And the petals slowly close to embrace the bee

Until the bee becomes a prisoner of the passion

he had whetted a while ago.

 

Such ardent passion!

The sky, blushing, turns scarlet

and spreads the cover over the duo

 

The moon puts on the focus

and the sounds of silence

get orchestrated by the music of nature.

 

Thus the play of passion continues

through the endless hours

till the sky opens its eyes once more.

The orchestra stops, the moon retires.

 

Satiated, the petals droop.

Released of his captivity,

the bee flies back to the honeycomb

to treasure the moments of bliss.

 

Another day, another shower

The nimble fingers make music once more

The same music humming within

Is this the beginning of another play of passion?

~Khwab~