Whispering Thoughts

A hushed, stilled nightfall. Midst the shadows of twilight, quest for harmony. Linking with Tanka Tuesday  Welfare unto all Rab Rakha

The silent spaces, a retreat, from the cacophony of life, into reflections; A quest, towards all answers, the silence holds secrets of eternity. Revelations, in the stillness. The unresolved threads of our journey, getting all tied up neatly, rather, hemmed, into a beautiful pattern. Tapping into the silence, resting in stillness, learning, the art of being. Linking with Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge Welfare unto all Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

The evening hangs on branches. Dusk. Dust. Quietude. Rustling of leaves. Whispers of yesterdays. Beautiful slideshow. Long time! And I yearn to steal, from the scrapbook of life, pages, where we had inked our togetherness. Forgive me, I hear your voice, and forget to breathe. The susurrations of syllables, leave sultry goosebumps, on my soul. Still. After all this while. Everytime. Always. Linking with  Welfare unto all Rab rakha 🤗 🤗 🤗 

The wailing walls of Sirhind, stand in sombre solitude. The howling chilling winds, the numbing weeping waters of Sarsa, bemoan and grieve. Eternally condemned and permanently blotted, these coffers rocked Thy tender kids to quietus. The supple souls, seasoned spirits, and their ominous farewell, Soil of Sirhind, (fortunate enough that such pious feet walked on it and regrettably unfortunate to have become their deathbed) , witnessed what we dare not dream. Unwavering, unflinching, unswerving and unyielding, subtle yet strong, the fledglings of falcon. embraced their pallbearers with smiles on their faces. And this is their legacy. They were bricked alive. But they never died. And never can they. Welfare unto all  Rab rakha 

A blessed soul of the community departed. He was a saintly spirit and Lord Almighty had graced him with the gift of music. Even though he could not see, yet he was so good at his craft that he was revered. I remember the sheer excitement which ran through my folks when he visited the town. They made that extra effort not to miss the time allotted to him in the Kirtan Darbar. With every breath he thanked Lord for the blessings He had bestowed upon him and it so seemed that every timehhe sounded more blessed in his craft. Unwavering in his faith till his last breath, he became a legend for the community. I, though not a very committed member of community, do cherish the times I heard him sing Gurbani and Shabad. And I don't know why, today, I feel that void in me, a bit of hollowness like I lost a distant relation, some faraway family member. My 100 words for his Faith... ‘Tis faith that inspired, instilled the spirit, to fly, even with broken wings. And it is with faith alone,...

The silent question, the quiet voids filled with love, the tranquil beauty. Linking with RonovanWrites #Weekly#Haiku #poetry prompt #Challenge