Where there’ll be scarlet and orange
And the colours I believe in
Splashed in the sky
A tomorrow in which
He returns forever
The same but new
The same but better
Paint me a castle
Where there are wooden windows
And stars outside
And planets that collide
Nowhere to hide.

Paint me a tomorrow
Where he would sip me forever
his hands, and the wind
Both of them
Around me
Where his kiss wouldn’t soften
With fond familiarity
Where the wet trail
Of his tongue
Would be an eternal river
Where the words he speaks
Would be wise and unblemished
And the tears we shed
Are forgotten in red.

Paint me a tomorrow
Where the past is a smudge
Or an unseen shadow
A tomorrow,
Where, if only for a day
The universe becomes
A dull cosmic rim
Where there is none, nothing
But me
And
Him.

Yet,
Painter of every day
Your every tomorrow
Is more beautiful than I know
From my own window,
This shadowless evening,
The Sun has melted into
Glorious strips of gold and yellow
And to whom does that lone myna bird sing?
Colours I never knew existed
Are sweeping the sky like a wave.
Men whose names I don’t yet know,
Know You.
And You
know me.

So, paint not the tomorrow I conjure up in fore-sight-less emotion
As though there were not more to life
Than my selfish wants.
As though there is not more to love
Than the shallow memories of the past,
I project, thoughtlessly, on my future.

But Paint me a tomorrow, please
Yours.
Paint me your tomorrows,
Till the tomorrows collide with eternity
And I meet You.