My muse

Like a butterfly, you stay with me for a while before you fly away to unseen lands; leaving the colours of your skin behind on the spot you last touched me before your flight. I look at the remains of our meeting with a wistful smile, smelling the colours of my muse with longing eyes. Sometimes I think of running behind you with a net in my hand to catch you forever but soon realize that some circles are vicious, and some chases endless!

Like the clouds in the sky, you keep changing your forms. One day you are a flower in the garden, second day you resemble the script of God. And just like the son of the sky, you seem far from my reach. I look at you beseechingly to descend down to me and when you do choose to listen to my eyes, I get soaked in your musings.

You come and go at your will. Sometimes you come at the thick of the night when I stand in my balcony staring at the inky night, at other times you come to me furtively on a summer afternoon, climbing the window of my room and stay with me long enough to quench my parched soul.

Sometimes you are the monsoon rains, and sometimes you are the cool evening breeze whispering sweet nothings in my ears. At times you stay with me late into the night until the fairy of sleep does us apart. At other times I wake up with you by my side looking at me with curious eyes. I pick you up and place you on my table and start scribbling in my diary. With the last word I write, you fade away into oblivion. My heart sinks again. The wait has begun. I don’t know when, I don’t know where would you come to meet me again. I keep standing with outstretched arms, waiting to embrace you for as long as I can before you slip away from my grip like quicksand...