On the Nature

The night is black and the forest has no end;

A million people thread it in a million ways.

We have trysts to keep in the darkness, but where

Or with whom - of that we are unaware.

But we have this faith - that a lifetime's bliss

Will appear any minute, with a smile upon its lips.

Scents, touches, sounds, snatches of songs

Brush us, pass us, give us delightful shocks.

Then peradventure there's a flash of lightning:

Whomever I see that instant I fall in love with.

I call that person and cry: `This life is blest!

For your sake such miles have I traversed!'

All those others who came close and moved off

In the darkness - I don't know if they exist or not.