A Shrine Of Love

For passer-by,
It was just a tree
Shadowing over the narrow
Dimly lit streets of this small city.

But for me,
It was the sanctum of love…
Where the tree stood as a testimony
To the confession
My heart made that evening,
Looking down the half lit face
Into the unfathomable black eyes…
As the soft winds and drizzle
That blessed us that day…

This was no mere street for me,
It was a shrine now
Where a benevolent cherub
With bright eyes and jubilant spirit
Accepted this heart
And pulled it into immense happiness…

A small work though.
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