blue and white and gold...with love...

the sky blue and white
and that
golden crimson light
playing with those distant long
leaves
designs etched on him...
as he stood
on the sixtyeight...
the elevator dropped him
at sixty...
not moving up
some technical hiccup...
those crop
into newly installed things sometimes...

'Perhaps...
He knows that...
the Architect...
what he is doing?
at that basement?
He knows...
me know not...'
he thought...
looking at the city
bright
drenched by the gold...
the last few drops
of the day...

'But He saw me...
catching the elevator...
when at the basement
i parked my blue horse...
and He even looked up
with His blue pair of glassy eyes...
clear...
and even smiled...
knowing all...
still He did not leave His work...
what a man...
A Man...
travelling all Alone...
getting old and new every day...'
he thought...
looking at the sky...
blue and white...
and like a kid's most blessed art
the clouds shone
in crimson fading daylight
of Spring...
as if a lot of water
with pastel he mixed...
a lot of water...

'true...
water is the source of Life...
tears...
from Heaven...
true...
Eric Clapton kind...'

without looking back
he knew
He had come...
sixty eight...
without any huff...

'the sky of monsoony spring is so beautiful!
ain't she?'
he asked...
not asked confessed...
not confessed thought aloud...
not thought aloud
expressed his desire
to float
with Him
the Architect...
standing straight
a figure in white shirt
and a pair of deep blue trousers...
a shiny new pair of leather shoes...
'going somewhere?'
he asked
looking at Him...
simple
but eloquent...
a non being kind
yet a being...

'Yes...
we are going out
to seek some speed...
you are getting too slow...'

'what we will do?'
he asked...
a bit afraid...
for knowing Him
he might be put to some test...

'that bridge you see?
from here?'
He the Man
showed him
the bridge...
full of cars and vehicles...
and people...

he nodded...
'well...
I want you to go with me there...
and there
I need to be made aware
by you...
how many turns you
can do in a minute...'

'a burn out?'
he asked...
'hmmm...
and a Christ too...'

' im...po...ssi...ble...'
he slipped out...
his tongue slipped
he was fumbling...
he sought pardon
immediate...
by placing
his left palm
on his left of breast...

He with a smile him graced...
a pitiable smile...
'You are not requested to do Christ there...
for Christ...
you need Space...
just the burn out...
at that little widened flank...
can't you see?
it is easy...
that flank no one uses...
that was built only for repair and
other emergency provisions...'
He strategised...

'as You wish...'
he looked up
to the sky...
the golden light
had vigour...
and awesome Love...
a Love that makes one bolder...
stronger...
he thought of Isabel...
he saw her smiling but a tad worried face...

The Architect?
He was looking at the Sun
praying...
for him
and his blue horse...
he knew that...

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