I present this as an Orison to you,

The sole You and only You,

Who has raged a tempest of Love winds

In my heart. The tumultuous waves of thy presence

Coerces my fragile heart to sink into thy thoughts.

Such is thy might! I stare and adore,

With every touch of thee, my soul returns to that pristine state,

From which it ripened.

Thy enchanted fingers delicately remove

The clouds of depression, that blots the light

Emanating from my heart.

The light that helps me to recognise you.

Thy presence fills my mind with a divine fragrance,

The aroma of which reinvigorates my soul,

Reinstalls in me a sturdy aspiration to Live.

Every encounter with you seems to be a novel action.

The vision and voice of yours generates amorous

Instinct in my mind and attracts myself

To the cornerstone of thy heart.

Oh What stuff are you made of?

Who has created thee?

Is it He who has created this ignoble soul?

Filled thee with all the aura of His!

Letting happiness to some and misery to others…

Thy demeanor raises you to the nadir of his mansion,

With all that thou desire, splendid and fulfilled.

And I, another performance of His,

Trudge my way through the thorn scattered path,

Delicately designed by Him,

To test my might, to note my endurance!

Serve Him I must, for he is the sole

But pray to thee, who art my whole.

My heart shall garner strength from thee,

Thy presence to provide my might.

Thy smell to refill this vessel and thy touch

To embalm my sorrows.

Take this as my Orison, not to Him but thee,

My sole pleasure is to wait and watch

The path where your shadow falls to offer

Momentary bliss, bring fragmented rest in my life…

Leave me not, stay with me,

This is my Orison to thee…