I was not a poet until
they asked me to speak of you,
I said, when I first caught sight of you,
I heard myself thinking in metaphors & similes
& all that God could lend to a poet
to speak of His masterpiece in motion.

Of your smile,
I said, whoever has even for once
admired the moon or a garden of roses
could not resist the urge to fall
before your smile & worship you
in awe and heavenly admiration.

Said, to me you are an eternal visitor,
your voice–the magic that propelled you
into the uncharted territories of my thoughts
once–& you never left.
You could make oceans freeze and mountains flow
in perpetual reverence of its melodic serenity.

And now if I were to be asked,
I would say,
when God made man in His image;
He made beauty in yours, & so beauty
& all that is beauty–full look like you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Tuva Mathilde Løland on Unsplash