Field of a Thousand Memories

Perhaps I will always remember what came before:

that endless summer’s day when she wove her hair

with jasmine, sweet, and searched for me.

And perhaps I will never stop loving her, the recollection of the way

she used to be. I hope she won’t mind if I hold onto her

memory, while she travels to distant lands

and forgets my name.

I walk alone on that path, where she sunk

her hands in soft mud and called my name. Where

she promised with a kiss on my nose, her nose,

that she would love any part of me that I could give.

Now I leave her footprints

in the earth below.

She is my reflection; I was never hers.

I call out to the wind

and hope that she will hear me:

“Send me a letter, my love.

Or better yet, come back to me.

I kept your hands,

your pens, your paper.

The sun and I are waiting for you in Jhargram.”

Cover Photo Source: VideoHive