[Photo Credits: Michael Varghese
'Face' Credit: Durga =) ]
There is this one thought that touched not my lips –
It lay dormant in my eyes;
Then reached out for words to give it life,
From you, and from me sometimes –
Life with which from my lips to spill
And drown in the arms of sweet sound.
This thought self-concealing, though, is but a feeling;
Just that, and nothing more profound.
Like some rose-bloom scent suspended in the wind,
Voiceless and silent it stays.
I sense its magic, and you feel it too,
Yet a secret this feeling remains.