Falling slowly: A poem

(Based on a song: Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Marketa Inglova (2006)

I knew you, like a million dreams,

from cotton clouds to spring,

that I wore on my soul like colours

that were staidly falling slowly.

I didn’t count the seasons but

gently played their rhythms

to understand that as we drifted away,

the boat that seemed like it was sinking was

actually pointing home; as if we were

on the same stairway yet feeling the

distances (between us). And I waited

for the games to play themselves out,

as I was falling slowly (but was it into

your arms?). I only seemed to be at war

with myself; would that reconcile the fragile

idea that the war could be won, on every front!

I thought I could see you like a star

seemingly near, but yet, how so far?! Even that

distance becomes a circle in your arms.

I know I was falling there slowly, so slowly

that time seemed to be frozen in the swamps!

I raised my voice, even if there was no choice

And I am painted black now, there is no turning back!

I just stopped to look; since I was falling ever so

slowly with your drift, while the universe played our

song! And we quietly sang our melody with it, all along!