A letter from who knows

This poem's about an adult man who is reminiscing about a woman who helped him find his way when he was little.

There's a letter on my front door again
Neither a name nor an address,
Without a clue about the feelings you possess,
I wonder since when did I attain a secret admirer?

In a seethingly benevolent spree,
I'm struggling to keep my curiosity afloat.
Embracing my expectations and estimations,
I'd leisurely unfurl your alms.

"Letting the downpour soak me to the bone,
That's when I first laid my eyes on you.
Standing oblivious amongst the crowd,
Looking for someone who'd lend you a reason.

A reason to cover your heads, running for shelter.
Perplexed by the response of the crowd surrounding you,
You began to walk away; Eloping my sight.
That's when I finally reached out to you.

Expunging the dewdrops from your face,
I couldn't help but notice a reticent look in your eyes.
Sadness? Relief? Exhaustion? Uncertainty?
I couldn't figure it out at all.

Engrossing my vague mind by retaining my pinky,
You looked me in the eyes, trying to make a remark.
As if been kissed with empathy for the first time;
You stood there, speechless, expressing it all."


Recognising these fragments of your mind
Being exclusively addressed to me,
I'd reminisce about the deluge that day,
Wondering if we would ever cross paths again.

Sitting here, watching the dews flit down my window,
I think to myself, that sometime, someday;
I'd find you on my front door, drenched in rain.

"Hope you remember that you owe a haven."