There are no suns, moons or stars in you-
neither the ocean, no sky nor even a firefly
ever made any presence about your being,
yet I hear your silent steps in my heart.
Your lips are the exotic trees with rare blossoms-
that unfurl their petals not in profusion
to drown me in colors or perfume,
yet I feel their soft touch in my core.
You are no flower but a hardened rock-
that rose above brine water of the eyes
of my broken self in a broken world.
You rise as did our Himalayas-
with the warm heart in layers of snow
while I am a pebble of prayer.
Posted for dVerse MTB ~ Neruda and the free sonnet hosted by Bjorn Rudberg
Shared with Poetry Pantry #367 @ Poets United