She is His fortune and His fate: A poem 

There is that love that is not 

imbibed by the senses; but the soul 

that does not manifest visually 

but is the festivity of eternity 

And on the clipboard of my mortal self, 

it transcends time’s entire whole 

How I have reworked and rewired it 

with every generation, whose succession 

made the continuation of posterity home?! 

If there is a past and future, they must mature 

and ripen; just as flower becomes fruit 

that death doesn’t break the cycle 

nor treachery tear the circumference 

from its source. I see the sun admit 

this power in all its love and glory 

Because the lovers have sustained  

its fire without beginning and end 

to a point where nothing can pause 

 but it all appears at once, motionless, 

like black and white tiles on the floor 

The magnetism and magnitude  

of the secret God has kept for so long: 

that he incarnates each time for 

His soulmate, that they together 

construct the phases of creative animation,  

where the materialising begets the confirmation 

that she is His fortune and His fate!