Emily

Emily,
Is it a seer coincidence,
Or fulfillment of a prophecy,
Encoded by Nostradame,
That I should find you,
On 23rd parallel,
After 110 years of your departure.

Its the year,
And I could mumble --
'I never lost as much but twice',
And
'Crumbling is not an instant's act'.

'So huge so hope so hopeless to conceive', --
If they were as my shadow,
Represented in antibeing,
Treaded to embrace me,
But left to an antispacefield,
In an anticosmos,
As if it would have caused,
The total annihilation of us.

O' whiteclad genteel nun,
Now I could converse with you,
The 'somethings' hovering over, --
'Grief, hills and eternity',
Sometimes I could feel,
The very touch of it.,

If I could thank you,
For transforming being in a state,
Where I am not alone even in,
Seclusion and withdrawal,
In which I am embeded in,
Like a 'nobody'.