(Un)muffled

Burnt fingers and some bitter coffee

Three wick candles and a dog-eared glossy

A warm smile and an attitude that’s also a little saucy

Are my favourite wrappings for a cold, winter morning

Seasonal

Ushering in soft breezes

With the rustling of drying leaves

October ends

With the promise of rebirth

Heralding the reign of nights

Over shorter, greyer days

November begins

With a foggy breath

Before I kick the bucket

On the last day of my life, I wish to rise early and smell the morning air. To go for a walk amongst beautifully coloured flowers under a perfect, powder blue sky. I’d probably have milkshake for breakfast or pancakes or oats. Cannot pin it down yet, but something sweet for sure. I’d call up my best friend and ask her to come over. I’d discuss a recently read book with her over a glass of red wine. Or two. Both, the book and the wine. I’d spend the afternoon with my family – laughing, squabbling and laughing again. I’d enjoy the evening with the love of my life. Slow dancing to fine music that we remembered by heart. I’d go to bed content but before that, I’d write a poem in my notebook. Sigh!

But. Yes, there’s always a but. But since I don’t know which day would be my last – one can never really know for sure. I’d like to live like this each day. Is that too much to ask for?

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Keep on keeping on

A dream delayed is not a dream unfulfilled

A heart broken need not be bereft of love forever

An anxious mind at times will know true peace

And so a seeming end can be a new beginning

All it takes is to keep on living

Solace

Some leave

Some stay

And some find a way

Back to where it all began

Because love is the only solace

That can be found

Time and time again

The truth of a lie

Have you ever been held hostage

By the power of a beautifully framed lie

Have you thought of going on believing

Till the very day that you die

Or will you fight to save your soul

When the river runs dry

Tell me, will you choose the truth

When the whole world goes awry

The Human Experiment

There’s poetry for pain

There’s poetry for healing

There’s poetry for love

There’s poetry for dealing

If you can feel it, know it, see it

There’ll be some poem to describe it

And that’s how we live

And relive it

This circus of being human

If only

If I could bear witness to how the dawning of a new day feels to the night sky

If I could but fathom how the presence of a baby’s laughter rejuvenates wizened, wrinkled skin

If I could even vaguely imagine how the withdrawal of high tides bereaves the rocky shore

If I could simply know, feel and experience all the wonders and mysteries of this world, I’d like to believe I’d still be awed by the beauty of it all

Question of Choice

I’m stronger than you’ll ever give me credit for

Cause I know all too well

That the only difference between right and wrong

Is what I choose to do

You’re weaker than I could have ever imagined

Because you don’t seem to realise yet

That the only difference between love and hate

Is who you choose to be

Bucket List

A life full of meaning. If not for the world, then just for my own self.

A love that matters. Might not leave a mark in your life, but indelible in my heart.

A thought, a poem or a story – not long enough to be printed in a book but strong enough to be imprinted in your mind.

Holding onto each other. Might not always hold hands – sometimes just wrapping my fingers around your littlest one would do.

Swaying to music unheard. Hair dancing in the wind. Eyes squinting under a sunny sky. Laughter twinkling till I die.

I’ve shown you mine, now won’t you tell me yours?