Art is what moves us and makes this world worthy enough for survival. I worship it in one of its form by loving to read and write poems. Come along to experience plethora of emotions through words
It's best that I take time. Patience has alluded me for long. Like rotten apples in the basket grief spills over, my shrieks run deep in the wild. All this while I sit idle in my room, My body flickering like nightlights. All I speak is loud voices
And that is to say all things are accessible which were not earlier when we were kids growing up. You can order food, clothes and plants, buy homes or farms at the comfort of your home. But the value of resources is degrading each day, wars and infighting declining what
I want to decorate my balcony in hues of sunset shades and paint my room delicately bright and bold and plant a few marigolds in the backyard as the sunshine unfolds and the leaves outside grow brown and old. I want to fall in love in October with October of
I indulge myself in morning meditations. A few warblers as tiny as my index finger sing continuously twirling behind one another, flitting from one branch to the next. My balcony is what they find next, their song feels like music to my ears. There are a few other birds as
Wanting a life like poetry in motion, Devotion pouring out of my heart like honey dripping down your eyes. The desire to move to a place where birds roam free, where I feel like an outsider more than an insider who belongs, trying to find a home while knowing surely