Age of the living is made of what Nothing but a few biological numbers The count of destined steps from the start To unknown destination nobody knows where. The toil of journey reflects clear The body takes the brunt of the years The feelings cocooned in the inner sphere Like to remain untouched by the time’s flares. A young mind under wrinkled skin Like the sweetness of the fruit ripe already Would have the mute desire to reach and win The youthful heart residing within un-aged body. If in the same rhythm two hearts beat For them time would stop to make any sense Past forgotten, in present two souls would meet For Cupid’s arrow the notion of age has no credence. Rising from depth of ageless emotion Spreading like waters of the flooding river Love assumes a visionless heavenly dimension In a delightful flower blooming with Platonic fervor. December 6, 2017.