Inhumed in Rumi and You
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodCk5nRes-dj8r_F-jNqg1AWyoAXp_g1d8-2Erol364y4d3wDIPb6A3RCLzMVEEWYh3-Ma4671FUB-m5lXQTDRaDuEr-TyjV8p1vlvjsROwKb0SeRowyCUQ6Fy8afxNQr0pyh7kSE/s400/Poem+on+Books.jpg)
Old unread books Tucked far away in the wooden cabinet Dust piled up like memories I tied my hair Assimilated the fragments of courage - From our shiny past And stepped towards it I opened it and picked your favorite You recited Rumi's poetry from it While I stared at your expression My head on your chest Ceiling fan blowing our cotton curtains Every Sunday ended as a chapter of my book That book celebrates neither you, nor me It holds the sand that passed through the hourglass And turned into gold After your left 'forever' I treasured that gold Left these books unattended Today as I held your favorite book It mocked me It is buried under the dust And, I am still covered in the earth That blew after I buried you Image Source - Here