i see her not,
the wind,
but she does exist,
formless
or formed,
quite immaterial
to my essence,
for I know her
from her touch
and her
gentle whispers
in my ears,

predictable
like the weather
unpredictable
like the clouds,
sometimes hot
sometimes cold,
her expressions
invisible
but her presence
always felt,

she often arrives
fragrant
from the flowers
she has  just
dusted off,
and sometimes,
contagiously intoxicated
with the
borrowed
heavy breath
of those
thirst quenched
rain bearing clouds,

she owns her moods
and charts
her own path,
i can’t beckon her
at my will
nor seek her
when I want,
nor choose
the song 
she sings
in the moment,
for in the now
she lives
her future uncharted
and her bygones
bygones,

so that being so,
i often
let myself drown,
to sip
every nectar
that she brings
and in every way
that she does,
submission
for self gain
is a fair strategy,
for knowingly
she gives nothing,
and yet
knowingly
i take so much,

…and that is how
your presence
your existence
and
your essence,
always
strangely
reminds me
of her.

© vidursahdev 2020

15 thoughts on “Her

    1. Thank you, Ameet! That would be wonderful, always a pleasure to inspire another. And I’ll leave it to your fair judgement if what you use requires giving a credit mention or not. Either way, let your creativity flow! 👍

      Liked by 1 person

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