And into the wild forest,
in the middle of a desert,
in the darkest of nights,
hope will always find
a path to reach you.

-

Chilly winds and July rains
Blue skies and cold dewy grass
Fallen leaves on the empty wet roads
Crushed flowers in the half-read book
She strained her adrak chai,
wrapped a soft grey shawl
and went out in the veranda.
Sat there in silence
watching the rain drizzle
made a to-do list.
July feels like a mix of
good days and bad days
rainbows and thunderstorms
healing and letting go.

-

I paint the walls of my room
in the hues of a dark starry night
with the fireflies accompanying
me on the journey of exploration
I lay down and stare at the stars
until I sleep with my dreams
The stars remind me of
the magic that dwells in my bones
the light that rests on my skin
And every night I count the stars
and create a story for each of them
so one day when I reach the stars
we melt and merge with
each of those stories
leaving a legacy of
love behind.

-

A starry night
with fireflies roaming around her
The cool breeze brushing her hair
and the soft comfy grass beneath
The sound of the running water
and the rustling of the leaves
She rested there
floating in her dreams
wishing on shooting stars
drinking from the
chalice of self love
experiencing beauty and bliss
in the most unadulterated form

Oh what a starry starry night!

-

Simplicity is simply being you
and not simply being simple.

-

There's love in metaphors
we exchange everyday
There's hope nested in
between our fingers
There's joy planted
within our wild souls
There's courage under
each layer of our skin
There are wildflowers
tucked in the hair
There are peonies
gracing our dresses
— % &There's strength and
softness in our smiles
There's a heart that
blooms in shared dreams
There's peace mixed with flowers
There's magic in togetherness
There's music in everything
There's a garden of love
and we are the daffodils
swaying with the wind
to the unknown lands— % &

-

Every night she would
prepare coffee for herself
and sit near the window
waiting for the moon to
recite her unfinished poems
breathing in between the
scattered pages of an old journal
sharing a piece of joy
in the absolute silence
for there's no better time
to read than in the moonlight
And day by day, like the moon
she was growing into
a space of wholeness
from nothingness
She was becoming herself
under the moonlight

-

Wildflowers can grow homes
with whatever little that remains
and bloom wherever they are
in the most beautiful way.

Humans are the same.

-

Somewhere between the stolen
glimpses and the treasured secrets,
the best conversations happened.— % &Somewhere between the truth
and the truthful lies,
trust died.— % &Somewhere between
'Do you love me?'
and
'Do you still....?'
we drifted apart.— % &Somewhere between loving
and leaving, we had
everything and nothing
between us.— % &Somewhere between the spring
and the autumn, a love story
flourished and faded away.— % &Somewhere between the chaos
and the creativity, a new poem
emerged.— % &

-

For now, I will just be in
the moment loving myself
a little more softly
planting my thoughts
in healthier space
unraveling depth of
ocean within me
swimming in emotional waters
and breathing in my own light

For now, I am learning
to love myself
a little more gently
a lot more patiently

-