I know you can,
I know you will,
It’s just another obstacle,
Just another hill,
The shimmer of the twinkling stars,
And the rich vivid sky,
Would heal your scars,
And bring you closer to new highs,
Majestically the birds fly,
And swiftly the fish swim,
Ruminating on their flaws they do not sigh,
Because they are determined, bold and vim.
The lands are free
and the seas endless.
Just as you should be bright and boundless!
And all of this dauntless nature resides inside you.
Because if nature is your life, you are it’s dew.
Author: Shria Jindal
Street Number 5
Just beside the corner
Along the turn
Where the sidewalk bent
A narrow path
Of shadows, spaces and similarities
Shadows between spaces
Spaces with similarities
Similarities of differences
Walking-tracing imprint left of silhouettes
Faint trails filling straits of void
And short steps covering their lenghts
Just beside the corners
Where the sidewalk bent
A pave, rather weary
With leaves, life and imprints
Leaves of life
Life amongst imprints
Imprints with verve
Ambling-unearthing the beauty of the silhouttes
Vivid reflection bore rills of tranquility
Thus blest the bends ahead.
Phoenix
I am shoved under,
My opinion is shushed,
My soul, sundered.
Day after day, scorching my existence
Day after day, disdaining my resistants
Worldly affairs might burn me down
Turn me into ash and extol my breakdown but,
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.
I am the PHOENIX and I’ll rise from the ground.
The Weaver
Amidst the rain
Amidst the thunder
There was a tiny weaver
Seeking to build itself a nest
Typical yet stood out the rest.
The tree swirled a million times
The twigs kept falling off the climb
Still determined.
That bird endured the bitter clime
It tried and tried until the nest held shape
And not for once did the bird even attempted an escape
What startled me the most was not the nest
It was average looking yet better than the rest
What startled me the most was the bird.
Its persistence its trivial and its pluck
And if that tiny weaver could brook such a hefty trap
What has made us handicapped?
A Vintage Rustic Smell I Love
There used to be a candle on my table
A Seed of Love
A seed of love planted deep in the heart
Its roots steadily seizing the entire part.
The first leaf arose with a new beat
Short, soft and sweet.
The first bud arrived with the first titter
Introducing to a being, as sparkly as glitter.
And as the bud bloomed, so did the soul
Begetting a new whole.
I was born this way
I was born of love
And you,
Were too.
A Breath of Fresh Air
Strange. The air smells different today,
Fresh, unruffled and without a trace of dismay.
Brimful, of this zephyr, I inbreathed mirth,
One divine breath, of plenty worth.
Drenched, I am, in this tranquil breeze,
And so immensely packed with elation that I wish time’d freeze.
The Perils of Forever
Its promise enchants us
And assuages our sore hearts
For a yearn to seek solace
Asked, to catch hold of this place
We flit, to seize it
And, to its eternalness we submit.
Even after,
Having known its legacy
We often neglect its tendency
To not exist.
And anew the inevitable never
Triumphs over the non existent forever
From Oblivion
Awake that night
I could hear my heart, beat
Awake that night
I could see my dreams, betide
Awake that night
I could feel my spirit, await
That night was what, I was.
Awake tonight
I can feel my heart’s, glee
Awake tonight
I can see my dream, become a reality
Awake tonight
I can hear my spirit’s, revelry
Tonight is what, I will be.
Uncategorizable
I am a piece of everything
A ray of sunshine on the first day of spring