He was living his life sheltered, Stunned by a series of mis-happennings. Now running away from chances, perceived as risks, Unaware that living life fully is worth all the hurt that may come after.
She would grab the bull by the horns And tell him she needed to talk to him. She thought she had finally grasped The meaning of his “beware” warning.
Tonight under the clearest skies I look out through Thinking of you Baptizing stars with strangers’ names Wondering which is yours I blink and in an instant One of them is gone
Unmasked force. Open Behind closed doors, you layer Up when you reach out.
I do not believe It is all just luck and chance There is more to it We can all create Our own luck, shaping moments, Opportunities We make it happen We go out there – minds open – Share, build connections.
He was walking down the street. Preoccupied with the day he had just lived, His stream of thoughts was punctuated by numerous questions. One could read on his face the scars, Red seals patching up his trampled heart.
April 1975 My brother and I had built that tree house next to our house with our uncle six years ago. Since then, on summer days, from dawn to dusk, we would sit there and pretend it was the largest, best-fortified castle in the kingdom
I am stepping out the house, Hurrying down the flight of stairs, Fully equipped – I breathe in, and out – eager to flee The loud realm of my own soul. With each step, our world Feels like it is morphing, shifting Around me
Pressing on the bottle of anti-inflammatory cream, I am collecting the relieving, transparent fluid in my palm. I apply it on her ageing knees, Her arms, her back, Her hands – She tells me, they too have started misbehaving Sending flashes of pain and waves of paralysis,
She is smiling at me Proud of what she sees Delighted, moved, elated That I am staying To keep her company. Nobody is ever that happy to see me She loves me and I love her More than words can say –
This is a poem – a letter to myself – I wrote about ten years ago. Reading it back today made me smile. I have become the woman I wanted to be then. Twenty-year old me would be proud. This ten-year-older, future version of herself is just like she had envisioned.