Your love was like the bell clock
you gifted me on my birthday
for it gave me both a sense of time
and also a little time for sense .
Your proposal , like the clock’s alarm
that which I myself set
but was always afraid to hear
for it would indeed wake me up ,
wake me up from my sleep
and wake me up from my daydreams .
Oh yes , ofcourse , my mind
that which made me lose it all
for it would run with its questions ,
just like the second’s hand of the clock
stopping at nothing
nothing , to take you away from me.
But within those seconds ,
some time was stopped,
and some stolen
as I kept your clock at my table
and your love , locked in my heart .
Many seasons have passed since
yellow leaves are green again
and the birds , I hear are all coming back.
A thick coat of dust ,
has gathered over the clock
which has stopped at a certain time .
I wipe the clock , put it back to life
“Has dust gathered on our love too ,
did it also stop at a certain time ? “
( poem and photograph )