Love At 38

I am not a teen to fall in love

with a guy who attracts her

With his sensible talks

or sensual touch.

Who takes her to the weekend dates

or long drives.

Who sings for her

and plays saxophone or guitar.

But I am flying higher,

and falling in Love.

No, its not infatuation,

not the love of first sight,

Its not the outburst of youth hormones.

These eyes are not seeing the beauty

in worldly things

For the first time.

I have felt the intensity of love

in wide open sky,

Arms stretched to the feel the wind,

skin drenched in rain,

Feet feeling the grass carpet beneath,

all lost in petrichor emanating from soil.

I have felt the true love.

Now I am ageing gracefully and suave,

turning more beautiful,

Equanimous and poised.

On number thirty eight,

I am still chirpy, joyous, creative,

Make art, write poems

and again fall in love every day with myself.