I looked at you

like a confused Indian man

who is looking for his lost ancestral root

in the pages of an old yellow paper,

but found the memories of his mother in the first page of the old, worn-out note.

I felt like kissing the sun on your lips and flutter your eyes into butterflies that fertilizes a garden into a treasure for my eyes.

I'm just a preacher

I'm a preacher waiting

to baptize you in the waters of love

and dip your head into the clear sensations of an evening moon that charades the evening sky.

I want to blend the sweetness of your smile into a thousand sermons

and turn the orchestra I hear in the concert of your walk into an hymn for the church of my soul.

I'm a preacher.

I'm just a preacher

Let my soul bear witness of you,

and my mouth speak of the heaven in the touch of your hands.

I want to sit with you in silence and read the bible of your soul

Till my soul sings

like the first special ministration on the dawn of Sundays.

#Endless Poetry