The blissful abyss Pt. 1

I am in a conundrum. With hair and limbs floating in the sea of nothingness. There is no apothecary to alleviate the feeling of not having you in the present moment, no materia medica to sooth the nostalgia. No potion to undo the scar.

It is true that you can have the clearest picture by considering all sides of the story. This is mine and a long one. So I can finish my moment and you can hear it out. Then you may respond. This is one such thought that crosses my mind.

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You are but a shadow, an idea of a beautiful reality, the perfect world. I would like to think it is a possibility. As I sink into this abyss under the dark void with my limbs and hair floating, as I look up into the nothingness, it is calm. I can only sink further from hereon, into an endless loop of these thoughts.

My mind will try to process this feeling for aeons in this plane of existence. Only I exist in this space as only I understand and observe. An imprint of your silhouette, an idea of a girl from a novel, a girl from a reel, an idea of a mountain girl. Is it the idea that has besotted me? Are you just that, a silhouette but not a manifestation of it? This is one more such thought that crosses my mind.

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I am on an island. Our friends are all here surrounding us. We are celebrating as you wear the white flower I picked for you from the bouquet. There is that perfect place, the perfect home, the perfect image of my life. I am happy. This is another such thought that crosses my mind.

As I continue to sink in, I feel better to let it out.

Eclipse, Dark, TRACEs and light

Ageing clocks have ticked away the lives of flowers that have reached their very nadir. With time, average mortals wither their expectations. They shudder, they muster their long lost strength. They despair and hope.

With age, their glory and hopes decline, their years of nourishing a dream they have in their minds that befits the young and steady starts forgetting them. The wise and old, they falter. Some stammer, some tremor. They leave the warmth of a bed they had for a companion for years.

“This is that eclipse” I tell her.

“I remember.” She nods.

“Yes you have lived through this before”

And she will live through it once more with me. Says the Sun, to the moon.

Darkness is all about valuing that time. This is when one musters faith and the other holds hands, in times of metamorphosis, facing each other ever so close to each other. Nature is full of surprises. She changes with time as so do the sun and the moon, during these times of the eclipse, who have been a witness to her dance.

The two heavenly bodies circle this blue eye in space, unending darkness and streams of celestial light playing their game they have played since the birth of time itself.

“We don’t get time enough to spend together” Says the moon to the sun.

Facing each other but never faltering on duties. Only in his light, she shines. They don’t talk much, except for the eclipse, that auspicious moment that humans so reek of, in fear. They join hands when others hide. In this time, when one shines over the other, they learn to embrace each other every once in a while.

Men succumb to either extremes. They burn up in his little flares or get consumed in her darkness. Only a few understand the balance.

One dawns upon the other and the other basks in glory of their partner. A time when they make merry. Only the sport, the adventurous who have waited for this moment witness the beauty of this play between the light and dark. They know the two are incomplete without each other. Life, in its spectrum, covers all such contrasts.

“We will meet again.” He beams his strength to her.

“We will.” She stares back at him as he beams steadily at her, signalling the ray of diamond is about to burst, a celestial gift to her no mortal can keep. Into light.

The sun. My king.