Right now 

there's a kettle on the gas stove 

and the water is coming to a boil 

I'll put the tea leaves and wait for the colour.

Out there, somewhere... 

You may be browsing books 

at a book stall.. 

each page holding a new world. 

Then we'll sit back to talk about our day, 

how the hours passed by 

doing this and that in a  pool of mundanity.

You'll tell me that you are always late to tell what matters most.

I'll tell you, time is irrelevant, and it's 'now' that matters most.

 

In a faraway world 

there are mossy steps of an abandoned ruin 

that we climb, 

our eyes sparkle, as if we are the first  ones to find it - the wonder of a discovery !

It's dilapidated walls, hanging cobwebs carry the chipped tales of unkept promises.

We forget that there have been many who dreamt and loved and laughed 

and thought that they belonged forever, 

as they looked down at the painted canvas of a town below, just like us. 

We stand embracing each other  like Picasso's lovers... time melting in our mouths 

each  moment...slipping through the fingers like water...

till nothing remains of us.

Only a poem carrying our heartbeats rises up like early morning mist of November