When first we touched,
My heart flew high,
On gossamer wings through a cloudless sky.
They said it was built upon a lie.
They told me my feelings would surely fade.
Passion would flare, and foes would be made.
Can you not put the past behind?
True love can change a river's course
Or pierce the strongest vault with ease.
True love can turn coal into gold
Or tame the tempest to a balmy breeze.
Quite some time has passed since then:
People no longer criticize.
For now they see that truth exists
Where once there might have been only lies.
Still my feelings are the same today
As they were on that very first,
For when we touch, my heart still flies on gossamer wings through cloudless skies.
About the Creator
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The Old Fisherman
Our home was across the road from the entry of a well known medical clinic in the city. We lived first floor and leased the higher up rooms to short term patients at the facility. One summer evening, as I was fixing dinner, there was a thump at the entryway. I opened it to see a genuinely horrendous looking man. "He's not really taller than my kid," I thought as I gazed at the stooped, wilted body. In any case, the shocking thing was his face-disproportionate from enlarging, red and crude. However his voice was lovely as he said, "Goodbye. I've come to check whether you have a space for only one evening. I came for a treatment toward the beginning of today from the eastern shore, and there's no transport 'till the morning." He let me know he'd been chasing after a room since early afternoon, yet he had no accomplishment as nobody appeared to have a room. "I get it's my face. I realize it looks horrible, however my PCP says with a couple of more medicines… " Briefly, I delayed, yet his after words persuaded me: "I could rest in this rocker on the yard. My transport leaves promptly in the first part of the day." So I let him know we would think that he is a bed yet to lay on the yard. I headed inside and completed the process of getting dinner. At the point when we were prepared, I inquired as to whether he would go along with us. "No, bless your heart. I have bounty." And he held up an earthy colored paper pack. At the point when I had completed the dishes, I went out on the patio to chat with him for a couple of moments. It didn't take long to see that this more established man had a major heart packed into that little body. He let me know he looked professionally to help his girl, her five youngsters, and her significant other, who was miserably disabled from a back physical issue. He didn't tell it via protest; truth be told, each and every other sentence was introduced with on account of God for a gift. He was appreciative that no aggravation went with his sickness, which was a type of skin disease. He expressed gratitude toward God for giving him the solidarity to continue onward. At sleep time, we put a camp bed in the kids' space for him. At the point when I got up in the first part of the day, the bed materials were flawlessly collapsed, and the little man was out on the patio. He declined breakfast, yet not long before he left for his transport, slowly, as though asking an extraordinary blessing, he said, "Would I be able to kindly returned and remain the following time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a little. I can rest fine in a seat." He stopped a second and afterward added, "Your youngsters caused me to feel at ease. Adults are irritated by my face, yet youngsters don't appear to mind." I let him know he was free to return once more. On his next trip, he showed up a brief time after seven AM. He brought a hotshot and a quart of the biggest shellfish I had at any point considered to be a gift. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be overall quite new. I realized his transport left at 4:00 a.m., and I thought about what time he needed to get up to do this for us. In the years he came to remain for the time being with us, there was never a period that he didn't bring us fish or clams or vegetables from his nursery. Different times we got bundles via the post office, consistently by exceptional conveyance; fish and shellfish stuffed in a crate of new youthful spinach or kale, each leaf painstakingly washed. Realizing that he should walk three miles to mail these and knowing how minimal expenditure he had made the gifts all the more valuable. At the point when I got these little recognitions, I regularly thought about a remark our nearby neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that terrible looking man the previous evening? I dismissed him! You can lose roomers by setting up such individuals!" Perhaps we lost roomers on more than one occasion. In any case, goodness! If by some stroke of good luck they might have known him, maybe their diseases would have been more straightforward to bear. I realize our family will be appreciative all the time to have known him; from him, we figured out how to acknowledge the awful without objection and the great with appreciation. As of late I was visiting a companion who has a nursery. As she showed me her blossoms, we came to the most wonderful one of each of the, a brilliant chrysanthemum, overflowing with sprouts. Be that as it may, to my incredible amazement, it was becoming in an old, imprinted, corroded pail. I contemplated internally, "On the off chance that this were my plant, I'd place it in the loveliest compartment I had!" My companion changed my mind."I ran low on pots," she clarified, "and knowing how excellent this one would be, I figured it wouldn't see any problems with beginning in this old bucket. So it's only for a brief period till I can put it out in the nursery." She probably asked why I snickered so delightedly, yet I envisioned simply such a scene in paradise. "Here is a great one," God may have said when he came to the spirit of the sweet old angler. "He wouldn't fret beginning in this little body
By Samruddhi Mote 4 years ago in Fiction
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