RUNWAY OF REALITY

You came on clouds that day
From celestial miles
From a virtual space of imagination
Landing on a runway of reality

Wings find their feet
Feet fly
Moments turn magical
In early hours of dawn
Destiny gatecrashes
From impossible statistics
To secret garden of desire
Beside the fountains of joy
Fog descends into vegetation
Turns into dews

Heart pumps blood
Hands touch
Body pulsates against body
Soul responds soul’s call
In moment of answered prayers
Grass turns into green
Trees into jungle
Clouds into river

There are no cell phones, ring tones, TV news, people with prying eyes, no agenda, no plans, schedules, no newspapers, no food, no distraction whatsoever. Some poems and flowing, floating us. I would disarm myself from any excess baggage and open up to soak the incredulous feel of my humanity resonating in yours. I would not come to you with my past, identity card, material dimensions, future, preoccupations. I would in the moment seek the life in that moment. I will present myself to this moment, as my human surrenders to the divine will. I will make myself available to the magical moment you brought with yourself as Prasad from Gods themselves. Together me and you were in our alter-world, away from the wife and mother, father and husband. All we could have been then was to be the essential and the elemental humans- not even individuals- we are. Nothing could get lowered, nothing could be berated, nothing abused. Nothing was, believe me. The more I soak you, your shades, your meanings, your nuances, your ambience, the more I am sure of it. If we try to justify, rationalize, define, categorize and equate the moment of our truth, with our other moments of realities then pain and punishment are very obvious inferences of it. Could I have stopped you from coming to me? Could I have stopped myself if you came to me? I don’t think I disrespected your freedom – spelt or otherwise. All we could do in this moment of confluence was to be mesmerized, to open to give and receive the eternal beings in the two of us.

All too unbelievable
All too short
All too precious
All too spontaneous
All too dreamy, which we won’t want to wake up from

In this miracle moment
Fantasy seeks reality
Reality seeks fantasy
And cheats itself

When reality meets
Fantasy
Only the expectation
Is Unreal

© nidheeshtyagi