“Her Eyes Remember Yesterday” A Poem by Dr.Lal
O gentle flame of twilight’s breath,
Thy gaze could wake a world from death;
In eyes where sorrow softly lies,
I see the dawn of endless skies.
Thy tears, like dewdrops born of night,
Fall pure within the waning light;
Each crystal sigh, a tale untold,
Of hearts once warm, now wan and cold.
The whispering winds through branches call,
Thy name upon the dusk’s faint thrall;
And every echo seems to be,
A sigh of love returned to me.
When first I saw thy spirit’s flame,
The stars forgot their ancient name;
For heaven’s light was dimmed by thine,
A soul so soft, yet half divine.
The river’s song through meadows low,
Reflects the grace thy features show;
And in its depths I see thy face,
A mirrored dream the gods embrace.
O wandering heart, O tender muse,
Why must thy light the dark refuse?
Though sorrow paints thy cheek with tears,
Love’s music triumphs over fears.
The moon, a silent sentinel,
Beholds where fading shadows dwell;
Yet in her calm, thy spirit glows,
As lilies bloom where cold wind blows.
Thy voice—how soft the air became,
When first it whispered my lone name;
It stirred the soul from grief’s domain,
And made the world grow whole again.
Through twilight’s hush and morning’s song,
Thy beauty lingers, pure and strong;
It binds my thought in golden thread,
Where dreams of thee are gently spread.
Each breath thou draw’st becomes the breeze,
That bends the boughs of ancient trees;
And in that motion, sweet and slow,
The earth learns love’s eternal flow.
No rose that blooms in summer’s air,
Could half thy tender grace compare;
For petals fade and stars will die,
But not the light within thine eye.
Thou art the storm that wakes the seas,
The calm that bends the trembling trees;
The hush that follows thunder’s cry,
The peace that dwells when tempests die.
O soul of flame, O heart of snow,
Thy contrast makes the heavens glow;
For every tear thy cheek has known,
Becomes a star in night’s deep throne.
I’d walk through endless fields of pain,
To hear thee call my name again;
And though the heavens burn and fall,
Thy voice would still outshine them all.
When silence drapes the dying day,
I hear thy spirit drift my way;
Through mist and shadow, soft and near,
Thy memory sings, serene and clear.
The dreams I hold are shaped by thee,
As waves are shaped by moon and sea;
Each thought a current, strong and wide,
That draws me closer to thy side.
O heart, so gentle and so wild,
Thou art both angel and lost child;
In every sigh, in every tear,
Thy beauty conquers doubt and fear.
Though time may steal what flesh has sown,
The soul’s true flame is all its own;
And mine, once cold, now burns anew,
Because it lives and dies for you.
Let winter come with all its frost,
No bloom of love shall e’er be lost;
For in thy warmth the world shall stay,
Though all the stars should fade away.
If ever death should claim this breast,
And lay my weary heart to rest,
Still shall my shade, through ether roam,
To find in thine its endless home.
And when the dawn, with trembling light,
Doth break upon the tomb of night;
I’ll see thy face in morning’s hue,
And feel that love is born anew.
Thy name shall live where whispers blend,
Beyond the grasp of time or end;
A melody the gods bestow,
On hearts that ache, yet bloom and glow.
For love, though frail as moonlit air,
Endures beyond despair’s despair;
It binds the mortal to the star,
And makes what is, what dreams still are.
So, let the heavens fade to gray,
And all the fleeting world decay;
For while thy heart remembers mine,
Eternity itself is thine.
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