Amour is perpetual!

The pulsate of the tale dated long time back where existence was a mélange of frolic and heartache, it’s been the same way since the time humans came into existence but philosophy seems so easy in language, reckoning is equally stalwart. 

The Tweedle of the little love birds embossed the gloomy morning with pizzazz and allure. They sang together, synchronising their rythm and tunes. Maybe in the cosmopolitan life, the only pleasing voice would be that of phone notifications but our true inner selves, each one of us long to admire nature in it’s originality. 

Every day from dawn to dark they cherished the trifling moments, it will take us a while to discover that when we reveal our inner souls to them, maybe a little guilt fills our hearts but we longed to set our minds free to be loved, truly and purely and appreciate everything without becoming envious, it doesn’t seem an impossible task.

On a summer afternoon, I set the birds for a glorious flight, every movement of the wing seemed amusing to me then. I waited, meekly. My mind was preoccupied with innumerable things until I realised the bird had returned all alone. The tune of tears sounded terrible. The pair was broken, all the flight of fancy of love and dreams wore down hope on me.

The malaise of a broken pair, washed away all the aspirations, it’s weird how the human mind shifts and loses its stability with the slightest of things. A little corner of my heart was soaked in tears of death, a flood of emotions changed my perceptions, only later did I realise this was just a phase and deflection was temporary.

The faith in everything restored with another lovely moment. On a dark night, the bird, whom I thought was dead knocked the door of love. Exhausted and punch drunk it was, on the verge of death, in those last few moments time twisted a life. No one would consider much significance to the life of a little love bird, but it made a difference. She feed her loved one a few drops of Adam’s ale and affectionately lay close to sparkle of her happiness. Love is ceaseless and boundless. And the cycle of existence repaired all the half cut bruises and yet again love made the way to jubilation. 

Feel love before the clock ticks away life.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s