In His Light, I Learn How to Love
He is fragile
like a flower nodding gently on its stem,
looking as if the lightest zephyr
would scatter its petals.
As he sits on the bed
sipping berry matcha tea,
I grasp a new aspect of him,
I see his richness.
A visage of selfless love,
he reeks of empathy and generosity.
I have no other homeland
but him.
We talk profusely
reminiscing beautiful days of yore:
the innocence of childhood,
anecdotes from college,
the magic of courtship…
He waxes eloquent about wars and pandemics
and its aftermath on the global economy.
In the evenings, we play Scrabble,
a fun ritual now.
It is these tranquil, delicious hours with him
which are the most fecund.
I abandon myself to joy.
I look lingeringly at him –
the most handsome man on earth.
His beauty drowns me,
I’ll do anything he asks of me.
The redemptive power of love.
In his light,
I learn
how to love.
Without Him, I’d Stagnate
His hair, black and glossy, falls over his forehead.
He has an actor’s countenance, flawless, beaming and dazzling.
His humanity,
goodness,
energy,
buoyancy,
vibe,
I love him deeply.
Always flowing,
gushing,
giving me depth,
concreteness.
He lurches forward
towards me,
I dissolve in the atmosphere:
into silken sheets,
wine,
mellow jazz,
bronze candelabrum.
I feel such harmony with him,
I feel whole, fulfilled.
I take refuge in his love.
I need him so much,
without him,
I’d stagnate.
About the Author
Swati Moheet Agrawal is a poet and writer whose work has appeared in Sledgehammer Lit, Thimble Lit Mag, Setu, Mad Swirl, Active Muse, The Alipore Post and Muse India among other journals. When not buried in books, she dabbles in decoupage art.
