I am sure it was Spring

But in the scattered photos

By my slippered feet

The weather recalls it winter.

Your first foray

Into the new world I had run to,

Forsaking the familiar

For the unknown,

Discarding childish ways for adult desires.

Your glistening eyes lit up

As I showed you the treasures I had found,

Enlightened eyes-

That hid so well the tears

Reeked down since my departure.

Eyes that frowned upon my green sofa bed

Resting but a foot from the floor,

That laughed at the view from my first window-

All but another window perched

But a hands throw away-

And loving eyes that saw through mine

And smiled-

Relieved, relaxed and entranced.

And quickly you began to revel amid it all-

My new transitory family

Who took you to their hearts

Tempted you with cocktails,

Boat rides

And frolics within a Spanish tavern

In the Frenchest of all cities.

You slowly found my raison d’être

And the joie that had become part of ma vie

Became, as always,

A part of yours.

My adventure- you now a witness to,

A part of and integral to.

You had been no more

Deserted by me than I by you

And so geography became now no more

Than a different view

And no longer a means of separation.

You floated through the city,

Your feet feeling nothing but comfort

Even as I dragged you up the steps

Of Montmartre-

Hiding from you the lift behind the trees.

With the wind freezing our faces

And tears streaming from our eyes,

We huddled together in queues

Filled with adolescent vacationers

And mounted fair Tour Eiffel.

Through the nights falling darkness

The city lit up below us

And I traced for you

The paths I had taken.

You left amid only tears of joy-

My life no longer to you an empty canvas

A world away

But a painting being filled up and coloured in

In tri-color,

Technicolor,

Damien colour.

We painted away the days and nights

Ourselves-

Mother and son-

As inseparable

As Mona from Lisa

Or the Moulin from the Rouge.

It may have looked like winter

But we knew that behind the wind

Lay a spring in bloom for both of us.

We had earned our time in the sun

And we would wear its rays

Like medals of honor.