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What Meeting You Felt Like
It starts with an open eyed dream
And a fledgling pomegranate tree
The sun edges closer to the eve
Recoiling her threads that weave
The daylight together
And, there, behind a beam
Hangs the first pomegranate
It mimics the sun’s smallness
In the enigmatic blue sky
Shattered by sharp shards of green
Growing on the trees.
Interrupting the hues of green and blue
Is the tangled glow of gold meeting crimson
And the softness of globular imperfection.
I turn to see your soft brown eyes gleaming
Soaked with the deep gold
Pulled from the refluent sunlight
In our surrounding skies.
Your gaze lingers and I feel
The heat of a pomegranate flush
Tasting sour and shy
While the wind softly sweeps
Sweetness onto my warming cheeks—
I feel
The cold stain of gold
Dropping into my lake-blue eyes
Light crashes in ink droplets
Spreading slowly with swells of silk
My eyes flood; my twin lakes once lost are
Spilling over with still water
And I finally break open into a smile
I feel the liquid light draining further
Seeping brightness into my skin
I see the pomegranate tree is still young
The lingering sun is still not gone
And out from under the fading blanket of daylight
I leave the lakes that rock me to sleep
Look at the softness in yours
Lean forward
Leap.
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This article has 2 comments.
My name is Marimac, and I go to an all-girls School in Nashville, Tennessee. This poem was inspired by my own experiences and the famous Urdu poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz.