All our rosy, poetic conversations
All the moon-lit dreams we shared
The telepathy we felt
On the most mundane occasions
That converted a moment into a miracle;
All our unsolved riddles
All our love laden complaints
The connection of souls we felt
In the lap of ethereal silence
That echoes deep within even today;
I wonder why, but they are only
Perfect on paper
Incomprehensible out of it
Reality, perhaps doesn't have space
For something so deep and esoteric.
-Purba Chakraborty
04.12.2016
Linking this poem with Poetry Pantry #331
