It has been a lovely weekend...!

Among the many things that I'm thankful for, I cherish a rejuvenating weekend. I don't mean one spent in indulgence that come at a cost (spa weekend/ retail therapy weekend/ dining out/ short winter holiday at a luxury inn/ etc, etc)...No. I refer to those gems of snatched hours amidst a busy life, to just savour one's family - laugh, play, cook, read, soar with music, watch movies, unwind with the significant other, and last but not least - to manage to squeeze in some chores! Did I mention I also did some coursework :)? Additionally, there were 2 birthday parties the boys had been invited to - one each, coincidentally. This gave them both opportunities to release some of their neverending energy, and got them into bed early on Saturday and Sunday. The younger one got lucky. He skipped along to our older son's party as well, was warmly welcomed, and found company as well! 

And yet I dug out this poem of sorts I'd written last month, and began tweaking it to post today. I can't say its done, and at the same time, I'm satisfied with it. For the present. Its mood is antithetical to the sunny contentment I held close today as I would a treasure...Maybe that's what this 'poem' is in essence -a mood. I wont say anymore. Read on...

Winter Moon

Reflecting, and watchful,

We stood,

Face to face,

In my father’s shed,

After school.

“Two Potawatomi on a hunt, contemplating”,

Like Mr. Mueller had said,

Buttoned tight,

Brushed by winter moonlight.

Wrestling one sense with another…

Or maybe,

It was thought against feeling.

What the body knows,

The mind ignores,

And bends to its will

The residue of desire,

Into an arc of obedience,

An unconsummated circle,

Just like a random halfmoon.

We traced the horizon of rapture

With our eyes,

And marked the ground

Where principle and conscience met,

Before calling off our flight

That frosty night.

Sentient, yet subdued,

We stood,

While a whistling wind drew near.

Its fingers stroked our faces,

Kissed our necks,

Our hair.

In my pocket,

My hand embraced the star

You once bade me safe to keep.

Its points cut deep

A new pattern

On my palm,

Just like a random halfmoon.