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So, we have successfully crossed 2017 and walked into 2018. It’s a brand new year ahead. But frankly, how newer could it be. To speak the truth, it’s just the same year repeating again under a new banner. For the one’s willing to follow their dreams will might as well procrastinate it this year too. The silent lovers might burry their feelings this year too and the dreamers would just keep dreaming, just that. 

This year, let’s make a difference. This year let’s make things real. This is afterall another year of 365 days at your disposal. And it’s entirely up-to you how you wish to conquer them. For all the lazy bones out their, let’s just wake up to see the sunrise and get to putting our lives back into pieces. For the addicts, let’s just stop for a while, look at the substance your holding and then think of your family : smiling. For the rash drivers, let’s just take a small step and pull on the seat belts. For the lovers out there, just think of how much you mean to each other and instead of living in the past or being frightened by the future, cherish your today and tell them how much you love them. 

This year, let’s make days count. This year, let’s listen to our conscience and follow our hearts… 

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Stay

Once-I-Had-Her-Hand-Quote

I pressed my shirt

And buckled my shoe,

Tidied my tie

All set to sway.

She smiled at me,

Her lips beaming as she said,

“Stay”

 

I pushed open the door

Held the keys to my car

In glorified fury,

I hastened away.

She held my hand,

Braced my shoulders and said,

“Stay with me”

 

I hushed my departure this time,

As quiet as it might seem.

Just like the moonlight sweeps into morning

And the twilight darkens to night.

But she held me close,

Her eyes entreating,

“Stay close to me”

She said.

 

But now once time

Had played its tricks,

And taken her too far,

I wish I had stayed.

For I stand

In the lonely Christmas lanes,

Staring at her window pane.

 

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punjabi-bridal-mehndi-designs1

Clad in red

With ornate and beads,

She steps down the aisle.

Bejewelled neck,

Henna smeared hands,

Her bangles jingled,

So did her anklets.

And she walks

Like an infinity dream,

She walks up to me,

Flashes her smile

As she walks across,

To the sacred fire,

Awaiting her dream.

 

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tfioS-FINAL

“You are nothing much. You are just a piece of my life, like every other people in my life is. You are just a part of it. But you are that piece who can make me laugh and cry at the same time. You are that beacon which sets my spirits on fire and at the same time douses my fury like an elixir. You are that piece with whom I can be cheesy right after being a red hot chilly. You are that piece who can make my tears taste smile. You are that piece who I wish to share my joys with and also run up to you with my sorrows.  And you are that piece whom I can get mad at but love at the same time. In short, you are nothing much…you are much more than what you think you are to me.”

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Delicate Russian Salad in glass jar… 

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Some of the last bright leaves of the season. © Sheila Creighton 2017

via Fall Orange — Imagery of Light

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snowflake-3317-423a9ae38f3342e0c130c5473fee6d3c@1x

Remember the evening,

5th of October,

We watched the sun

Set by the waves.

And as the ocean stroke

Against the infinite horizon,

An enigmatic music echoed,

Began my new poetry.

 

Another month later,

By the snowy pines,

We watched the snowflakes

Rosettes and dendrites.

And as the leaves stroke,

Your hand brushed against mine,

I fumbled words

As you smiled.

 

And from winter came spring,

Breathing lives

To the sleepy and snowed,

I heard the music loud and clear,

And of my poem,

Three verses were near.

 

Then last night

I wrote one too,

By your bed side,

Watching you sleep,

As I silently whispered,

My confessions unheard.

 

Now I stand,

With tear drops

Under the rain.

With the clutter ended

My music abrupt.

But did my poetry?

 

And by your grave,

With my confessions unheard,

You still remain

My incomplete poetry.

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