Old river
The old street that lines your place
The dim lights of the wise northern city
They come to me in my dreams of late
They linger and paint pictures of our union
They are just as far still, yet closer to home
Last Friday I had a dream and in it
Love had aged, friendship filled the lungs
I do not remember what world that was
It was so real, so much for a dream
The ways of your skin etched a feeling
In my weak heart.
An old river flows in your eyes
The tempest waters have settled
All tremors hitherto, less frequent
The fear of failure, like death, embraced
For,
In life lies salvation
In life dwell the gods
In the beauty of youth
Its burden lies
In its will, lies the way
Come raise a toast
To the comet of love
Live long, live well, I say.
— Pratik
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