Whispering Thoughts

Intertwined within,  both the good and the evil, reside in each one.  Ah! vague moral hues color these souls, a menacing grey. Linking with  RonovanWrites #Weekly#Haiku #poetry prompt#Challenge  

Early dawn. I hear the singing birds, gliding, soaring, weaving through the blue expanse. And I wonder, if they can judge the kilometers they have flown? Do they know the places like us? Like Mandi. Hisar. Ludhiana! Do they see the boundaries we have drawn on maps? The directions, the longitudes, the latitudes, do they know about them? Or is it just a big brown earth for them? Those primal beings, are they on a flight of purpose, or is it just an aimless trifle? Mesmerizing. Breathtaking. Uplifting. Enlightening. Small birds. Impressive flights. Mighty contemplations. Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #115 Judge

I stare at the blank black screen, scroll through notification feeds, obsessively check the settings for ringer volume, scan the social media, frequently and regularly scribble irrelevant notes, patiently converting them to irrelevant poems. Not a word. No message. No call. Not yours at least. And then somewhere between dawn and dusk, I fall asleep. Only to wake up. With your name on my lips. I know you won’t be there but still I move over to your side. Breathe in the scent of your pillow and lull myself to sleep. Trust me, I have never felt this lonely before.

You see, I was born in hills, those lofty middle Himalayas that hold untold sunrises and that ring with life. They exist. And they hold this secret of existence in their core. Beyond all struggle. Beyond all death. Beyond all beginnings. Observing everything, in its nakedness. Staying silent. Persistent. Absorbent. Continuous. Mighty patient. Impressively calm. Even in raging chaos. Savage at times. Unrestrained and ferocious. And since I was born in hills, mayhaps I inherit the wisdom of mountains, their priceless blessings, in my blood and soil. Yes! I hold the mountains within me and the mountains cradle my spirit.

Ma! May I lie down and rest my tired soul in your lap. Here I am, weary, wobbly, washed out with fatigue. Oh! lull me to sleep so that the chaos outside ceases to be. Will some order, a bit of sanity, in my life, through your prayers. And cook me a meal (a great fan of yours) of strength and love for I need both as it is dark outside and though I can fight the clouds, the eclipse, now that’s something I can’t fight, at least not alone. So ma, help me heal and help me rise. Again. Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook :100 words : order & Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook :100 words : fan

Ripples in the wind, the whispers calling you home,  to the waiting arms. Linking with RonovanWrites #Weekly#Haiku #PoetryPrompt #Challenge 

Broken, they fear death, not knowing the power they hold within. To smile, rather than grimace in adversity, that’s the sign of a brave soul. After all, the beautiful flowers, bloom in dirt. Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #114

The journey of life, an enthralling combination, of strength and seduction. The endless periods of development before the blooming of flowers. The spectacular window views, humbling and glorious winding ones filled with surprises, set backs and gifts. Big rocks to climb, little ones to trip over and milestones, to mark where we have been. Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #113

Skinny little waist, chiseled face, taut and toned muscles, the hourglass shape that never-ending list of presumably the perfect figure. One never really fits in, does not qualify on the scales of beauty. The exquisiteness of heart and soul, largely overlooked. That skin-deep concept equally cosmeticized. The various versions of beauty, the uniqueness of our blemishes, the imperfections of being human wilting and withering in the race of looking beautiful. Wonderfully made, inevitably flawed yet masterpieces, in their own respects, every single one, craving acceptance. Beautiful, you are. All of you, what and who you are. Just believe and be. Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100words : Skinny 

Loud chaotic din, silenced by inward retreat, that sacred zen space. Linking with RonovanWrites  

Unlimited, infinite, carefree wildflowers, blooming in garden, breathtakingly beautiful, incredibly awesome. Calm in chaos. Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #112