By: Aiman Pasha
If only you were here to see the other side, the never ending skies, the towering willows. Where wonders never cease, the place where paths are lined with petals of the most beautiful flowers. Where upon lifting your eyes to look at the serenity, the butterflies in your stomach escape their small cage and flutter around; feeding on the blood from your heart like it’s their nectar.
If only you were here to taste the sweet honey dripping from hives, the rich fruits dropping from selcouth trees, the warm milk from a small stream. Oh to see your face when your eyes would glance at the mountains around here, the ones that felt smooth like cotton and looked as irenic and powerful as any other.
To wait for you here, the place where the night sky looks as though stars were intricately embroidered onto a dark cloth which was draped over our heads. Where the patterns on the ground merge together like honey under the warm sun. Where anything could be of any colour you wanted, where grass could be purple and water could be the colour of a peach. Where days and nights pass at your will, where you could live in a moment as long as you please. Where the sun sets in the east and rises a different colour from the west.
To prepare for your arrival at the place that holds no end, no bounds. The place that stretches to every point your eye could reach, where you can gallop on horses and still not find the bound, where you could swim in a pink lake with fishes and roll on the grass with meerkats.
Where your imagination morphed into reality, the utopia no one could ever even think of. oh the thought of you running in the forest where little light reached, where dark creatures with good intentions lurked, where you could laugh with a Pegasus and sleep atop a bear, where cats would purr in your presence and where you’d feel no emotion other than euphoria and sheer bliss.
The thought of welcoming you in the place where we belong, the place where something came from nothing and everything came from something. The place which holds the aroma of a thousand freshly bloomed hyacinths. I wait for you here on the other side.
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