My lost story ( Ranjha Jogi Hogaya)

We'd be sitting by the fire when he started to speak  
too gruff for for stories that old man  
he spoke  
 
in rough terms
of why a man would stay with a woman
from red flushed lips to blue tipped fingers  
made me see the hopeless love in his land of five rivers  
he made the sugar shadows and honey streams
gestures nudging life into the crannied valleys  
wordless drones voicing the threads of dreams  
where Ranjha sat in the woods and laid the rope of his flute in a trap for Heer  
 
and let the voice of cruel gods shatter the heart
who's shadow rested on two worlds  
 
casually grabbing the bulls horns
his stony smile showed me the iron in our veins  
while the lodes in his eyes pulled at the Sufi in me  
that came from the men
who made pretty words to hang themselves with  
told me the chains are thirsty for this blood  
so tread small incase you trip on shadows  
 
he taught me where my feet belong  
to let my gaze wander among the mountains  
this man who snapped the necks of the friendliest chickens  
mid smile  
traced the words of his heart into mine  
on the very night I met him  
he made sure his words would pierce my ears someday
 
the smoke never cleared enough  
to read how much the wrinkles said of Jogi  
but my feet filled in the rest