Had you left me earlier

You lingered around
like a hummingbird, tantalized me
till my love had grown into a banyan.
The aerial roots entwine me now, I feel

stupefied, a dullard before the mirror.
Had you left earlier, I’d have realized
my persistent idiocy. Pardon me
for my short sense of humour, but,

had you left earlier, I’d have declared
“Mea culpa” with an added eloquence,
I’d have finished exploring the moon,
ascertained how empty and how deep
craters can be.

You're still treasured in a copper pod
of my yellow flower tree. Even now,
the petals free in abundance
forming a soft carpet.

Seldom, when a mad wind blows,
I observe the struggle of a candle flame.

Had you left me earlier,
I’d have stepped cautiously, tried to read
the warning signs before stepping
on a quicksand.