behind the telling eyes,
the scarce words, the gentle smile,
and the strands of untamed hair,
across the composed face,
your heart went hammering,
blood raced up the face at the thoughts,
and, a nothingness returned as he left,
if you missed all this anytime,
it has to be him!
when the mood lit up bright,
and the air turned lively,
when the yapping and giggles
were peppered by swift sidelong glances,
when you laughed your lungs out,
and quietly sobbed after he was gone,
if this rang in a blurry image,
it has to be him!
with the sun,
sank another day of hope,
almost,
until a call sent the spirits soaring,
the room, the heart, the dreamy eyes,
and the skies sprang into life,
a puff of wind
threw up the curtain into a flight,
and filled a spring in your steps,
that even the cane-chair and the tea,
held their breath.
if there's just one you must return a call, today
it has to be him!
© sashikant mohanty
