My gifts are not of silver or gold

Shiva hummed something to Himself, as they met in the forest the very next morning.

"What? Are you singing to yourself?" teased Sati.
"No, I am not!"
"You are, too!" laughed Sati."Else, tell me."
"Everything was decidedly different this morn," said Shiva.
"The sun shone bright, much brighter than yesterday.
The stars, see my love... were still up, they refused to go away!
sparrows whispered to each other excitedly,
the bees were already stumbling in drunken ecstasy,
and, did anyone note the trees as they swayed?
Some strange delight in the air.
All this, for you, my Love..."

"Ah! A poet!"said Sati.
"My gifts are not silver or gold for thee,
my words are my gifts, my poems, me," continued Shiva with a soft smile.
"That, is lovely," said Sati ,"Sometimes I feel we have always been like this," She said."It feels so right!"
Shiva looked at Her with great love and smiled,
"Yes, this is how it has always been," He said.

 

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