My Humming Word

Two octogenarians
Wrinkled body and face
But young at heart
Turning the tide of time
Barefoot, holding hands
Walking together in bliss
Leaving footprints behind
On the wet sand
Collecting seashells
On a sacred beach
Of the eastern coast.

They are not lovers
They are not couple
But friends and soul-mates
Separated in a predicament
Many years back…

It’s a recurring dream,
I often wonder!
Is this
A mere reflection of
Some unfulfilled desires
Or a premonition of
An event preordained?

Image (c) GettyImages

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