Sitting beside the window, I am watching pearls from sky Fall likes Angels descend. While cheering for that little drop of Rain that is racing down to my Windowsill with another not too far behind.
The scent of rain, muddling the soil, This musky smell, why do I feel warm As though my heart is being embraced by Nature's arms.
The wind is nice and smooth, The scene outside is cool, The colours around me, calm, The air is drenched in vapors of clouds. My clothes are now far from dry And there is puddles all around. But I am filled with a feeling I cant decipher.
I see how each drop of water gathers To form a puddle, I see how each drop of rain Makes a ripple in the said puddle. I try to count them. But I knew my mind was elsewhere. Somethings coming to my mind, And somethings drifting off from mind.
Somethings are never meant to be. Yet we keep holding on, delaying the ending, hoping for a miracle to bloom. But sometimes it's better to sail through the storm and come out defeated, alive than to keep fighting in the middle, in vain. A pale grey skyline filled with broken dreams of yesterday fades away slowly and blooms into a new dawn; change is inevitable and it is scary, but it's better to let go of the hurting even if it is comfortable, to declutter and make space for something better.
To be a bird and fly midst the ever changing winds is daunting and the uncertainities can be overwhelming, it seems easier to go fall back in the cage, a so called home.
Run free. Fly. Sail.
Let the wings be a reminder, that things like you, beautiful and strong, aren't meant to be bound.
I was 19 when I first fell in love and I don't know if I will ever get over him. Every night at 12 we used to snuck out of home so we could see each other. We used to meet at a sea shore which is a mile away from my home. We used to take a cruise with no destination.
Leanly built, dark-haired, he was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any day of his life. I always felt jealous of his perfectly executed arched brow. He was very tall, that I have to raise my head towards the sky to look at his face. We were like the parallel lines, very different in nature. I'm an open book where as he is secretive. We were both insomniacs. Though he doesn't talk about himself, he always let me tell him everything which wasn't even worth talking about. He let me tell him secrets nobody knew, until the sun rise and he never seems tired of listening. He had a pleasant smile, even movie villains could melt. I could see a dark and lonely past with just a glimpse into his eyes but he never let me know about it, he kept his life private. So secretive that he never told me about his job or even his name for that matter. But I call him "my moon".
It has been five years and I still sail through the sea all alone, singing his favourite songs to the moon wishing, one day he might seek the moon for help and find the way back to me through the verses. Although, he never sails back his boat to me, I think it was definitely worth a try #deserving#picturec@writersnetwork@writersbay#bb_tale 03.01.2021 10am