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Writing sounds like

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The windchimes
of yesteryear's loss
are being stirred
by the tempest
of memory.

Will stillness
ever visit me again?

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The tingling wind chime made way through her heart to reach his soul

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Listen

Look how the breeze,
Gently romances with the wind chimes,
As their unity creates melodious music,
Truly worth listening to,
Time and time again.

Listen, as they are speaking,
The language of unconditional love,
Cause their reunion gives birth to music,
Every time the wind shares a gentle touch.

It is their love which showers,
Good luck and fortune on us,
Making us believe in prosperity and growth,
With each passing day, Listen again,
As they do have something special to say.

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I hear you in sounds of wind chimes you left dangling on my window
I watch you in all the leaves dancing
to the music of rain
I see you in waves, their longing for moon
In horizons where sky meets the ocean
In broken stars that mend the broken hearts
This is how I meet you, in metaphors
You're gone
All I'm left with are the metaphors

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The wind chimes in my balcony miss the breeze
that used to make them sing in mirth.
Sometimes a gush that would turn them topsy-turvy,
sometimes a light touch that would caress them.
The showers that accompanied sometimes,
how it used to wash away the settled dirt.
I observe how it longs, for it all, hopelessly.
I observe how we both long for love, together.

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Jab Kabhi is bhaagti hui Zindagi se paresan hoti hoon...
Tb ye thandhi hawaayein or wind chimes ki Halki si aawaz bhi,
Dil ko sukoon de jaati h... 🙂🙂

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Miracles are when My Bad-Luck All-Time
Changes to Good-Luck in No-Time..
Just By,
An Entry Destined to Time...
Of A Person Kind of Mine..
And Now,
Our Luck Everytime shines!!
His Heart for me beacame a shrine...
Hence,
As always...
Love Jingled Just like Wind-Chimes......

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Windchimes

April winds carry,
A sense of restless peace.
A tune for all,
But meant for some.
And there's a small corner,
In the balcony where I live,
Or rather say I try to breathe.

Soaring kites expressing desire,
That a middle class eye,
Often fail to dream.
Two little boys gigling and running,
As if life's heaven for them.
Winds rushing through leaves,
Hairs untied blowing,
In an occasionally serene breeze.

And here I sit,
Witnessing every minute.
With my heart
In some distant land,
I wait for,
The call of a windchime.
I wait for,
Life to dwell again in me.

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