Writer
Day 35
On the edge of a mountain cliff,
A little boy settles down..
To glance up at the clear skies.
and to behold the magnificence
Lying ahead of him.
Serene natural splendour
Deep valleys and lakes,
Blessed forests and picturesque mountainscapes.
The little boy stops by everyday
To forget his story,
and to rejoice in nature’s glory.
Day 34
Here you come again.
Hanging out on my window pane.
You give me chills when I step out in the open air.
You cause commotion on the lanes,
With puddles of muddy water here and there.
Yet, every time I see you,
I fall in love a little more with you again.
Day 33
Exhaustion, mundaneness
Blank, Lost, Unenthusiastic
Passive, Sadness, Coffee
Music, Sleep, Aloneness.
No flowery poem.
Just my state of mind for today.
Day 32
When the bird was flying high in search of its prey,
Did it ever worry about failing?
When the horse was racing faster than the wind,
Did it ever think about falling?
When the burden of fruits pulled the branches down,
Was the tree afraid of dying?
Then why do we worry about falling, failing and dying..
Without even trying?
Day 31
Drifting in the air
A dried leaf
Sometimes lying on the ground.
Flying with the blowing wind.
Floating away
With no direction.
Wind, water, soil or rain
It settles wherever
Doesn’t complain
Glad about the change.
Day 30
A deep rage veiled within
Latches on fervently.
Give free rein to inner struggles
So as to remain sane.
Day 26
Looking out the window
With puppy dog eyes.
Many thoughts and questions,
Fill my mind.
Unlike others,
Small talks are not something of desire.
Happy inside the bubble,
Comfortable in the shell.
Yet, a genuine connection..
A meaningful conversation
Will be welcomed with gleeful eyes.
PS – @writingbolt
Day 25
The church bells ring
The birds sing
Perched on the branches, they swing
Some sweet memories they bring.
While a girl in her red cap,
Crosses the street holding a cat
and has a small chat,
With a naughty lil brat.
Day 23
A long, long day
Has made me tired to the bone.
A phrase, I must say
Is true to its core.
I have no more words left up my sleeve
After having spent an entire day
Writing as a busy bee.
Day 22
I close my lids and ponder.
What’s to be written on the pages of life.
But all I see is darkness, grains-
Like sensations of stars.
I lose myself in the patterns.
Taking deep breaths,
I fill my insides with air.
In the light-headedness I float.
I float with a gentle smile away.
Nuraine Sadaf 