Once more

I sit by this tree, huddled under its crimson shade and I wonder.

I wonder where you are.

I hope you are not in a Heaven, where you’ve been promised other women and not me. For I cannot see you with another. If you shall sin, it shall be with me and none other. Like we did not too long ago. Because being sinners together was meant to be.

I hope you haven’t attained Moksha, for then I shall never be with you again. I like myself entangled in these earthly ties. I don’t want salvation from that which gave me you. For without Moksha, we are certainly promised several births.

And in all of them, you shall be mine.

I sit by this tree, huddled under its crimson shade and I wish.
I wish for one moment more.

Like the many we had not many dawns before.

And yet, I do not feel you are away, sweetheart. Maybe you are right here. For I feel your eyes follow me. For I feel your smile when I see myself. For I feel you in this breeze that stays with me.

For I haven’t stopped feeling loved.

Maybe you are here. Waiting for me as I live each day. Waiting for me till my last breath. And then we shall leave. To wherever we are meant to be. To where others await us.

And there, we shall be One.