A love poem based on a fictional narrative with the gorgeous, lush green mountain terrains of the Rockies in Boulder, Colorado as the backdrop.
The leaves whisper, as if in an endearing trance,
the sweetest whistles of unfathomable love
rustle in the mountain bends,
the bends where the despairing lover boy
wistfully looks for the last glimpses of his lady love…
Did he find her?
Did he utter his last words to her
in the silken weave of the night’s lovelorn sky?
Did their lips, locked, floating
in the furtive wind, see the
sky bleeding in moon-drops?
where would he find her again,
in the green expanse around, where the valley
devours him in its ephemeral rhapsody?
The clouds embrace him with their high and low notes,
the fall and the crescendo
unite in a moist, bottomless dark.
The rain pelting on the Alpine body
an aimless madman’s refrain.
He has come back to the
smoky terrains of the evening sky,
to walk the verdant pathways.
The suffocating quiet, the chill
on both sides of the mountain skins take him
to the farthest end of the rocks
where they had made love
and lay, crestfallen.
The night will return to him now in the dense woods
the wet dark canopies him
in wordless nuances and sounds.
He knows the way to return
is a wild, piercing night away.
From the top of the cliff,
His bird-body flies down
And melts, in quiescence
In the gorge beneath.
The night melts and molds
In it’s naked, primal music,
The sonata of love plays on.
More poems to read
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