Will you marry me, not a question but an answer.

Will you marry me, not a question but an answer.

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Will you marry me? Not a question of drama,

Now it echoes, leaves me in trauma.

A fourteen year old girl, leaves without reply,

After sixty two years, she says, who had said this, I miss the voice of that guy,

Her drops of tears says, "together had framed many dreams of flights", still pending to fly,

Many buds died, before flowering,

Alive memories of flowers, are reluctant for smiling,

He was teaching, 

I too was teaching, 

It's a journey, also mutual quarling and learning,

Theories are experimented on each other before presenting,

Our love and confidences were ever mountaineering and surprising.

Not just rooms of Sunday school class,

Common were bharanda and gurden of different fruits and different flowers that were ours.

After each cook, wear, walk, and sleep, eyes were waiting questions and answers,

Smell, gesture, smile and anger were becoming wordless answers.

Together in life, waited and walked,

Miles of dearth becoming miles of affluence paths,

Never realised, how all those long days had rushed and passed.

Today after departing, sixty two years is the span,

I could not ask, 'what was your feeling', 'Will you marry me?' when he had asked,

Oh my dreem world,

Please do answer?

Are you taking revange, since I had left then, without your question's answer.

Dwit David Philip

Bhawanipatna, Kalahandi, Odisha, India

9437104301

klddavid@rediffmail.com

01/02/2023