1 PM Call

In the middle of everyday, my phone shall surely ring,

It’s the call I most wait for, the call that makes me sing.

It is him, my safe place, my soul mate and friend,

To him I open up, my angst, joy and thoughts, a story that won’t end.

He listens with his heart, and answers with his soul,

Each word, deep and wise, warm and mine to console.

We often laugh together, but sometimes we also cry,

Tears of loneliness yet togetherness, shed with many a sigh.

Our 1 pm ritual, a divinity that time transcends,

Our holy sanctum, our moments, space that heals and mends.

Our communion, each afternoon, eagerly awaited,

An outpouring of our love and affection, free and unabated.

That distance keeps hearts apart, is only but a myth.

Our daily phone call, our time and space, a testimony of our tryst.

Just us and our words shared over sorrow and glee,

Reverberating the echoes of our souls, jubilantly set free.

So, with bated breath, we eagerly wait, for the clock to strike one,

For the chime signifies the golden time, our minds, souls, united and wholesome.

Poem by Pallavi Karnik