True to his word,
He was there, in the park,
Waiting for her,
She halted, looked around,
His words echoed in her ears,
In the morning gentle zephyr,
‘I will be there!’
‘I will be there for you!’
He cried out,
Last time they met and parted;
Stoic, handsome and shy,
Greener against the blue sky,
He smiled under its vast parasol;
The sight of him warmed her heart;
They talked,
They had so much to say to each other;
Then they fell into a deep silence,
It was not love,
It was not happiness,
It was a soul connection.
Anita Bacha
