It so seemed summer was greeted with a kiss as spring matured. Evolving as with nature complimented youth spent in awing the beauty of thoughts, conceptual morals deeming its greater meanings, instances where no debate was required to prove that two crossed at three was five only when it was wrong. Or else one added to one would still be one but only in Truth Tables in the AND Gate, or probably in a song of Robert Miles. Music dedicated to moments or an evening of watching a movie weaving memoirs, we sublime such moments in time into sand and seal them in an hourglass. Now as time leaves behind, we recollect those instants in lively flashes of remembrance or rather quirk happenstance and convene belief and vigor in the strength of love flowing through. We keep turning the hourglass which is hardly a dimension of time and more concurrence of fate. Every so often the repetitive circumstances glowing with reminders spellbind the lattice of the currently presence of now where a soft night is willing to nurse a wounded soul with memories, words and fingers as the rotten daisies under our feet wither away. Coincidences are more abundant with the maturing grey in my hair, and I know have to keep walking in these busy streets of life.
(c)Copyright Mehjabin Shahed
18th June 2012
Mehjabin Shahed 