My Solitary Reaper

I think about the soft velvety eyes,
Wet in wait-
Of a resolve of distance.
Yonder do they stare at-
Looking for the clouds the eyes love.
Blue sky gazes down at him too,
Benign and protective of his space.
Drifting eyes, try to catch the smoke of the dates,
As the time ticks by slowly-
To herald the union.
North-westwards,
A prayer is whispered his way,
To lighten his footfalls on the rose petals of love.
Every road, that he seeks,
Must be marked with music,
Of the rhythm he carries deep within.
May the sunshine sheath him,
Insulate him from all wordly ways -
The soft brown eyes,
Of the boy, hardly belongs to this day and time.
May all his dreams,
Find the spire to Providence,
So that he may be left carelessly happy,
With his puerile innocence shining bright.
Let every date crossed out in the calendar now,
Be a testimony to the selfless love showered on him.
In his wake, lies our way.
In his arms, do hopes find life.
In his lips, do words find meanings.
At his touch, does solitude finds solace.
Blessed be they who seek his company,
Emblazoned be they, who feel his love.