Wondering About You

Wondering About You

 

I wondered if I would ever see you again

If your sad eyes would make the same folly

of locking glances with me.

If the wind would caress the darkness

of my gashed face and send messages

of pleading toward your carefree smile.

 

I wondered if all the rhythm in my unsung song

and the beat of my unmoving dance

would still amaze you, even now,

after all this time.

 

I wondered if the white canvas of my heart

would be cleansed of the gold stains

of your dancing emotion. If your tragedy

would illuminate my music ever again.

 

I wondered, under a tree, in the shade of

thought 

sheltered from the brightness of youth, if

I should ever meet you and if I ever will

write poetry about wondering about you

when I wonder about you.

 

By Shiksha Dheda

From my perspective

Yes, I am a romantic.

However much I would like to deny it, I can't.
Which leads me to saying that I'm an optimist.
And as an optimist, I find myself being a photographer( let's use the less professional...I'm a person who takes photographs).

I find myself wondering these days if one can be a photographer without being an optimist, or atleast having an optimistic gene in your body. Essentially, a photographer's job is to find value where others don't. If they don't then there is no point to their job because they wouldn't be documenting a fresh perspective of someone, something and some place.

And I wonder, how is it possible for my bones to be optimistic when my flesh is cynical. I guess it's just a shield. Maybe I find optimists weak. Perhaps my cynical flesh is serving the purpose of protecting my fragile bones. Life stomps on Optimists. I don't like being weak.

I'll leave it there for now. I promise myself to finish it,