I know them as boys who love to party, the adventure daredevils and renegades,
but tonight in the mountain, they show another side.
We sit by the fire on the moonlit terrace. Every one is perfectly silent watching the flame dance.
“What do you see?”, I ask.
“I can’t quite explain nor describe it.” says Pat who is most entranced by the flame and gleaming like a child to himself.
Z : “I see a woman dancing.”
Me : “It’s like love, ever- shifting, ever-changing, never the same.”
Gor puts in a few more twigs.
Z : “She’s right, it’s like love, you need to feed it to keep it alive.”
Gor : “The spark needs to be there in the first place, to keep it alive.
Without that initial spark, nothing can keep it alive.”
Every one and everything falls back into silence.
In the silence, I think it is the divine that ignites the spark between two souls, that indescribable thing called Love, no money can buy it, no person can dowse it & when it is found between two such people,
they become tenders to the sacred flame of Love;
that God first sparked.
Not a word is said. Everything is in the flow. The river beside us, the wine in our veins and we ourselves,
as the full moon watches.