A Winter Morning…

This morning the books on the shelf fell with an intentional poise, it was turning their pages on their own

Surprisingly, the piano was quiet… maybe the rain that fell last night scolded it with passion but my violin was fine-tuning with the winds…

All the unfinished poems were happy…. that I left with pain, and those fairy lights were dancing to my solitude

It seems hard to go blank on a black canvas when those snowflakes were scandalising and musing sensually to abstract philosophies

A mail arrived with a postcard from the past, holding grudges together

It’s my mind that’s making space for the heart to wander around…

Someone forgets to live in reality, that may be on purpose… Right?

You can say what you do, but it’s so difficult to express how you feel

But if you ride on your insecurities for too long, then how can you reach your destination…

But it’s time… I should get down to my destination

I am finally aligned with my destiny, an inheritance they say— transitioning slowly into a drop of warm tears…

which owes me nothing but the reoccurrence of pristine moments

and I open my eyes to the winter evening…