And 'tis such a cliché to hear that storms don't last forever,
no they don't, but strong, persistent men - flamed, impassioned men do.
Courageously, boldly, patiently chasing their cherished dreams.
Linking with Ronovan Writes Sijo Wednesday Poetry
In moments of stillness, when the chaos quiets and nature reveals its gentle truths, even a fleeting beam of sunlight becomes a messenger of...
And 'tis such a cliché to hear that storms don't last forever,
no they don't, but strong, persistent men - flamed, impassioned men do.
Courageously, boldly, patiently chasing their cherished dreams.
Linking with Ronovan Writes Sijo Wednesday Poetry
The gold tinted azure skies,
spotless shade of blue,
the kind that hurts the eyes,
or be it the cloudy dreary pale greys...
The sun is always there,
in all its radiant glory.
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha
Another day, another chance.
At life and at living.
Yet another prospect
to prefect this art.
To draw the right strokes.
To smudge and shade the gradients.
Oh! And what a blessing it is!
To see the night retiring,
leaving the door, ajar,
allowing the light to rush in,
the blushing dawn
spreading its tippet,
and the prismatic scattering
that follows,
consuming the night.
Slowly. Definitely.
Yes!
Another day. Another chance.
Second. Third… Millionth. Zillionth chance.
To breathe.
To believe.
To be busily astir.
And to beget.
Your very own concrete rose.
Mayhaps a little flawed,
but undoubtedly immensely blessed.