Windows are so Dreamy

A window looking out to
a white cherry blossom tree
With a steaming cup of hot coffee

On the window sill.
A writing desk by the window
Stacked with books.
Sheer curtains on the edges,
Moving gently with the wind.

What Do the Trees Say?

What would happen if the trees in a forest got into a conversation?
What do you think they would talk about?
Would they compare their heights?
The lusciousness and colors of their leaves..
Talk about the texture of their bark?
Would they discuss in lengthy sways about the weather and the winds?
How hot the summer would be this year..
How the previous winter dried the very roots and shoots of their being,
Almost a near death experience!
When it rains would they get romantic,
Secretly extending their roots to hold hands underneath the soil?
Will one tree get jealous by the blooming blossoms of another?
Or upset that the birds always flock to that one cool tree?
Will they discuss who’s the new kid around the woody block?
On a full moon night would they share stories,
Of how they grew in the shade of their father –
From a little sapling to a mighty tree?
Do they get annoyed with the travelling band of monkeys,
Who seem to tickle them as they go swinging by?
Do they wonder about the creatures of the forest,
Of their quick and meaningless lives?
Do they smile at each other, shake hands, or nod heads?
So, what do you wonder my wondrous trees?
Wish I could sit down and listen to you speak.

On World Poetry Day

Poetry,
Does not have to be a jumble of words
Or, beautiful sounding prose.
It’s what the people always say,
Poetry is in everything that’s around you.

It doesn’t need to be
Created, written, spoken, or sung.
It doesn’t have to always be expressed.
It can be in the unsaid little things of life.

When you close your eyes in prayer,
The reverent bow of your head, my friend, is a poem.

It is a feeling that flows,
It does not have to be controlled,
Who says you need to follow rules, meters, or rhymes
To feel poetry,
and if you do, that’s great too.
Well, then that’s the ultimate form of poetry.

But poetry, my dear, is you.
The emotions that flow inside of you.
The good ones, the bad ones,
The sad ones, the angry ones,
The love, the hate.

When you feel a darkness creeping within,
Gnawing at your skin
Breaking you, pulling you down,
Haven’t you tried to fight, to overcome?
Expecting light at the end of the tunnel?
You have reached your hand out for help,
Right there is hope, right there in your spirit is poetry.

When you are drowned in work,
Day and night with no track of time,
You have forgotten to eat,
Hungry and tired.
But, when you finally raise your head and stretch
In that deep long breath of exhaustion is poetry.

You are hanging onto your life,
In a local crowded train.
Sweating, cursing, sighing,
Pushing, pulling, struggling..
Struggling for a breath of fresh air.
In that struggling, funny anger my lovely one, let us find poetry.

Poetry is not always flowery.
It can be anything that you want it to be.

Doubtless, that the poems written by
The hopeless romantics,
On the falling leaves,
On the blooming trees,
On the rising, thrashing waves,
On the pouring, loving rain
Will always be the rainbows in the skies.

But, let us continue finding beauty
In the most unexpected traces of life.

Some days, the passion to create is so strong,
That everything around seems like a flash of inspiration.
From the morning cup of tea,
Sunshine on the feet,
Crumpled sheets,
A smiling person on the streets,
An empty blank sheet.

The Outsider

You think you belong to the land in which you were born,
Then, why have I felt so alone and wrong?
Like an outsider.
I’ve never felt at peace at home.
When I walked on the crowded streets,
I wished to go unnoticed.
Always hiding.
Always so angry with everything around me.
Always seeking a door,
To take me away from the miseries of this world.
Running, looking for an escape.
Running after change.

When I finally found it, I grabbed it with both my hands.
Leaving behind my home.
Unthinkingly in desperation.
I needed it so badly.

Of course, I was afraid!
Change is not easy.
But, my homeland has taught me to be brave.
All those years spent in fighting
Has given me strength to adapt to change.

When I opened my eyes to a new world,
I asked myself, “Is this paradise?”
Clear blue skies, lush green lands as far as the eye can see.
Filling me with a sense of serenity.

As time flies,
Slowly the feeling of awe subsides.
Overwhelming emotions started to consume me.
I looked around for familiar faces,
But, there was nowhere to hide.
I realised, I am the only outsider.
How do I begin again?

But, my homeland reminds me.
Never succumb to feelings of dread.
Overcome and be brave.
You have always been an outsider.
Running after change.

In my closet I hide,
Lock the door tight.
Sit down on the carpeted floor,
Holding a pencil to write.
The walls cold as ice,
On this snowy night,
Sneer down upon me.
As I lower my head and close my eyes.
I hum a song to ease the restless mind,
It’s time to get to work tonight.

Today

Today, I will rise and stretch like a cat.
Yawn real loud and open my mouth as wide as I can.
Draw open the curtains and smile.
Embrace the warmth of sunshine.

Today, I will not worry about the mistakes of yesterday.
I will start the day by being kind to myself and the people around me.
I will take time to work on a hobby that brings me joy.
I will be thankful and show gratitude for what surrounds me.

Today, is going to be another day away from family and friends
I will not crib or complain,
I will tell myself to hold on to hope.
As in my heart they are not far away.

If you have to get obsessed, then obsess over,
reading books without any breaks
walking for hours without knowing where you’re going
watching the stars and wondering how it would be like to be in space
playing with animals and taking care
obsess over loving yourself every single day.