I Shall Come to You

by A. Junaidy

here without you,
there is just fragrance of flowers, not yours
it is just another silhouette of tree that we planted days ago, not yours
it is the sound of whispering winds, not yours that i am longing for
it is me that is longing for you, when the setting sun throws a long shadow of mine

i wish you were here with me
so we can cast this silence, and the setting sun on the western horizon throws our long shadows
there would be you and me,

you and me, the two persons who won't run from sentences
two persons who stare into each others' eyes and recognize others' soul

what a pity me who forms those wishful thinking
you are not here...
maybe tommorow shall be days of joy
when I shall come to you, or is it you who shall do?