Falter

but don’t forget to rise.

Falter, but remember

Alter, is in it.

Falter, we all do, don’t we?

And yet we’re here, somehow

Incidentally. Accidentally. Intentionally.

Tripping on the guilt

Of the what-ifs and maybes

Knowing for certain, that

Uncertainty will always

Draw us in, as we go on

The cliches and similes of life

Rocking its boat,

In anticipation…

In case we cross storms

Or forget to stargaze

And deny that we indeed

Are no less celestial.

Falter, but never forget

To hold your heart, and hand

And lift your face

In gratitude of yet another

Chance, to break even.

Picture-Peg is a view of the sky from our Kulam 🙂 Perfect for what the muse brought here, this evening. 🙂

19 September, 2023, an impromptu verse for Day#19 of #SeptemberMusings

Glowing

Sun on me.
A smile in my heart.
Maybe rising to my eyes?
My lips.
The flutter of my hands.
Walking with that spring in my gait.
Heel raising, toes light.
A tiny breeze beneath the feet.
Body bending back.
Neck arching up.
Shaking my hair in abandon.
Running my fingers through it.
Back, up, away.

Knowing, as you come up, behind.
An arm around my waist.
A kiss dropped below my ear.
A warm breath feathering on shoulder.

I hope you see the glow
I felt, spreading within, over,
Radiating in these words.

And find a spark of joy.
At least for me.

_____

Today’s is an impromptu verse typed into the new post on the blog. Been a while since this happened. Thank you Ruchi, and all those who have been following the September Musings here, and engaged the hesitant Muse, to share more than she thought she could. I know she’s glowing too.

16 September, 2023, for Day#16 of #SeptemberMusings.

Yester-eve

The now is a story

Far away, out of reach

Of yester-eve.

You were there

In my arms

A smitten twosome

Like no other.

Arrogant, in love.

They say, don’t they, that

Pride does go before a fall.

So it was. We fell, when you did.

And what a fall is this!

A heartbeat’s pause.

A breath half drawn.

A blink of

Teardrop tipped lashes

That’s all it takes to become a memory.

But,

Smitten we are.

Still. I know.

Reaching for the other

Still arrogant

Knowing, so certain,

When it’s time

We’ll find each other’s arms.

Again.

25 April, 2021, Day#25 of #napowrimo 2021

Today’s is free hand 😬😍

And this is Naina’s. A mandala fell from the sky, she says, and all the *critters* are waiting to get it, some surprised, some eager, some waiting to drink it! ❣️🥰 Her stories are like no other!

(E)xhale

Quelling disquiet.
Seeking quietude.
And being given that,
I wonder
All of a sudden,
Why I sought
What I did.

The quiet envelops
Your mind
To the point
The warm cocoon stifles.

There’s only one thing
To do, now.

Breathe. Listen.
Your breath speaks.
You listen.

Breathe. Exhale.
The cocoon gentles
Into translucent strands
Slowly parting way.

Reach out, touch
Move your thoughts
That little bit
To the right
Having left victimhood aside.

You’ll be okay.
You’ll be okay.

Breathe. This mantra:
This too shall pass.

24 April, 2021, Day#24 of #napowrimo 2021 is a page out of my own ODAAT series (one day at a time 🙂 ) written when I was in quarantine, upon my return from Sydney at the end of May, 2020. It seemed perfect for the times, for the letter X, with suitable hacks 🙂

The mandala today, to me, is airy ☺️

Wings of Fancy

How do you lock down;
Batten down the hatches
On the craft at
Stormy seas?

Churning waves of disquiet.

The other kind of quiet
Is merely a cue,
A prelude, if you wish,
To the Overture of the
Tumult.

That’s when you escape.
Release the catch.
That kept you in place.

Fly. Erupt maybe.
But yes, lose yourself
Like never before.

That’s the only way
You keep you.

23 April, 2021, Day#23 of #napowrimo 2021

I wrote this one on 29th March. Little did I realise that I would feel this, on the day I’m sharing it on the blog. The tumult. The escape. The storm within.

My country is going through collective trauma. Those who still can feel and see are, that is. The pandemic is a never ending trauma. Lives taken, through disastrous management of resources and poor leadership in a situation where personal gains of the leadership far outweighs its inherently unassailable responsibility to its peoples.

Failure is writ large on them.

It is the ones who still have a conscience, that work, selflessly, relentlessly, unconditionally towards healing and solace. Gazillion amount of gratitude to them doesn’t cover it. This includes overworked health care workers, those at crematoriums, the volunteers working at their devices on gathering, verifying data, and disseminating information on resources, every person who will rage against this dying night…

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You are my water colour wheel of hope.

Thank you Swati for the session today and Elsa for this gift

Naina also made one ❤