MYRIAD HUED LOVE

I have seen the glint of light on a piece of broken glass

 Dazzling me with its brilliance.

Heard the notes of love in an eerie silence

Felt the warmth of a virtual smiley, and also of a real smile

Which has gone on and on for an unending mile

 In a toddler’s cheeky chortle and toothless grin

 In the serendipitous gleam in the rag picker’s eyes

 Who bends over the dustbin

And vociferant sighs

 Which speak through eloquent eyes

 And a scintillating sunrise piercing a dense fog

And the excited whelping of a street dog

I have heard love talking to me

Filling me with untrammelled glee.

 In mother’s reprimands

In a father’s jibes

 In a brother’s diatribes

 In the incoherent lisping of a wordless infant

In articulate mumbling of an intellectual bright.

 Overwhelmed, I close my eyes and see.

The resplendent reality

 Of a   warm tactility

 In heart tugs

 And bear hugs

Diffident smiles hovering on strangers’ lips

 And the loving hand that bends to pick up the old man who trips.

And yes, in Vincent van Gogh’s enclosed field with rising sun

Which erases the sinister looking gun

 And evening landscape with rising moon.

Which camouflages the sighs of a mournful loon.

 I have seen the brush strokes of a sublime love

And heard the unheard yoddling of a little dove.

Bright splashes of love paints have colored

 My world

 And love-laced possibilities unfurled

 I luxuriate in the warmth of this love

 Which, at times, is bashfully curled

 But yearning to be unfurled

 By a mere touch

Very slight, not much.