Your Return

As the world waits for spring to return

every year so I do the same. The time

when rough wind starts to blow and I

know that the winter is passing away I

anticipate to have glimpses of you

again. The picture from the past dozen months or more still lingers on my mind

persisting to entwine with the present

again. I calculated that a day with you is

worth more than hundreds of the days

in the rest of the year. The futility of

giving effort to only one solemn wish ends when preparation starts to

welcome spring. But when tender

leaves starts to sprout and little birds

sings their song it had been already

time we said, "bye". Oh! How painfull it

is to depart 'cos I love eternity though possible or not. You take the best of me

away when you leave. It's neither the

summer of the west nor spring of the

east but being with you is another

season so enchanting and so transient.

Without you, words doesn't rhyme, numbers doesn't add up with symbol

and my songs losts its harmony. Gentle

breeze turns to harsh wind bringing

dust to my brow. This is a portion of

how I miss you. Those are the days

when the sun is too mild to warm me up, the moon refuses to light up the

night sky and the clouds fail to soar up

high. How blessed would I be if in my

springtime there's a dawn of a new day

with the sun rising up again over the

western horizon or the earth stood still even though the moon crosses the sun

and goes down.. For your return is

always my Springtime.