Amitaverse

Well the wounded soul sought fresh air in the nearby park, where a few lovers met. There were fixed benches for them to sit, fixed positions for their hands and fixed angle of their besotted looks. Once in mid winter there were no lovers as it was raining. The wounded soul saw the beleaguered benches craving for the warmth of the soul mates and wrote the following:

We Two of Us

We two of us in the wood

In wind swept winter’s pensive mood

Craving warmth we lie unhidden,

We long for moments forbidden

For loves that winter’s chill withstood.

We two are benches made of wood,

Once with pride in the park we stood,

Today we are left, forsaken-

We two of us.

In this winter, we cry aloud;

Oh! Sweet spring hail the lovers-good;

Let them sit on our warm wooden

Lap; let’s attend to their desires then,

Ensconced in nature, far from crowd-

We two of us.

(A rondeaux )