Country Road

As we wandered down the endless country road, the late afternoon sun bathed us in its golden light, casting it's raw upon the wheat field and the wild flowers that canopied our way. Our fingers were laced together, tender touch of your shoulder were ever so gentle and affirming. The sky began to fold into evening.

Some shy drops flew down from the distant clouds and docked delicately upon the crevices on our hands leaving their trails while tapering away into thin shimmering threads. The sky had dressed itself to a shade of grey and urged us to seek a shelter. As the wind began to rise and the drops became more violent, I held your hands firmly; you gazed at me with an reassured smile. You felt safe. We jiggled and started running.

We found our shelter under a quaint wooden pavilion, aged yet sturdy. It was a warm and dry home amidst the gloomy encompassing rain. You laid down on my lap, finding comfort and shelter as I embraced you in my arms. My heart was swelling with a tenderness that any word can scarcely capture. I gently kissed your forehead, giving you a promise of affection and protection. The symphony of rain running down the roof and the wind singing its tune filled us with endearment and care.

As my fingers traced the contours of your face, mapping the features my heart finds the most warm, if felt as thought any barricade between us no longer remained. Your every apprehension and every doubt just puffed into the embrace of that pavilion. Our soft laughters and silent gazes spoke volumes of the belief and trust we had developed over that tiny fragment of our little lives.

And when the rain eventually seemed to dwindle down, the world was left refreshed and sparkling under the emerging canopy of stars. We remained in our cocoon of warmth, reluctant to break the magic of the moment. My fingers ran down your ears while you closed your eyes, submitting your soul in love and in faith.

As we continued our journey back, we viewed the world with a new vividness. The countryside road was no longer just a path but a testament to our love. The pavilion was no longer just a shelter but a memory engraved into the fabric of time. Hand in hand, we walked together knowing that no matter what the weather might bring, in each other we had found a sanctuary and a love as comforting and constant as the shelter of that pavilion on that overcast day.