Coffee Meet

Coffee meet (after two years)

In the canvas of the café
you appeared quiet as the rain
your silent footfalls softly spreading the smile
that blended with the light in your eyes
that spoke with the syllables
of the quiet ambience inside.

Minutes painted our conversation
into Tagore and Dylan.
Picasso followed with his cubism.
Even your Spanish and Italian tour
sat at a comfortable corner.

Facebook came and went by
before my coffee turned cold
(and you reminded me)
and Beethoven’s 7th symphony
almost epithaped a dying rose.

Your Mexican Mojito
rested halfway through
when academics and careers
appeared on the canvas.

Edging our way through the silence
you finally won in paying the bill.
And when we left
the blended colours of our smiles
gave the last brush-stroke to the canvas.

But when a Keatsian plenty plagued me
I went back
to complete the incomplete painting with the words:When you left
I found God’s footprints on my floor…