You’ll find me.

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Must death always find its way to us?

A paper full of memories, I don’t want to kill it. 

Find me.

Look for me in the depths of the unknown,

In the hidden secrets of the soul.

In broken pieces and forgotten places.

I’ll be her.

The one clad in silk, or maybe in nothing.

The one living solitary, beneath the snow.

Who’s lover, he; din’t even know!

Find me in the dates of of this mortal world,

in the breath of your sweetheart.

In the reflection of that broken glass,

I’ll be the one.

Crying in the closet of your majestic wooden house.

In the aging of  the tree,

in the ruins of the world.

In khadi and silk,

woven not produced.

Touched, felt and embraced by a thousand!

I’ll linger in the haunting scents of your once present

I’ll be the one banging on the doors of your memory 

The leaf in the snow.

Not beautiful, no never! Alone.

Take me in now,

So when you touch, do you feel a thousand others more?

You don’t possess me, you never can.

I’m wild and free.

I’m pen and paper.

I’m written and unwritten

Told and forgotten.

His memory shall remember,

when his past shall haunt.

Don’t hide too far,

This is home, I am home.

Yet, you’ll chase me and forget me

and once again; remember me.

Centuries would pass.

What’s my struggle is your victory,

my love now your hate.

my present and your past.

It’s not a different world,

it’s the same.

When you embrace me, 

when you cut that tree,

when you’ll write that letter,

you’ll know me,

oh! I promise.

You’ll find me!

 

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My Ten Year Old Angel

 

The more I believe in Angels

The more I see them all around me

In friends, family and acquaintances

It’s amazing how much goodness you can see

If only you believe.

I’d call her a little bomb . She’ll blow your mind with her comebacks and thrill you with her amazingly pure thoughts. A true balance.  Outspoken, brilliant, talented, adorable are just a few adjectives.  I’d love to call her a princess but for now she’s a tiny tom boy. Sometimes I see reflections of myself is her, the love for football and guy stuff, the dizziness towards shopping and girly things.Sister from another mother! Probably because we’ve been brought up around the same person!

Never the less,

She’s beautiful. Inside and out. Features of a beautiful woman peep through her face, and you can easily tell she’ll turn out to be a heart breaker of countless boys. A cascade of black hair which now are tied in a messy braid will soon come down styled to perfection. ( Honestly can’t wait to see her grow)

I first saw her when she was almost a baby. Even then she was capable of defeating anyone anywhere. Every time I speak to her it makes me think of the lord’s wonderful creations and perfections. How innocence can stick to true knowledge.

I may have many friends, but there’s always a special place for a few people.

What I love the most about her is the fact that every word comes right from the heart, because she’s still so pure and so innocent. The lord resides in each one of us, but in her he shines out.

 

She reminds me that  there’s still purity In the world, that beauty is precious and love is infinite.

 I thank him( god) for bringing  her in my life. And thank her for reminding me every day what gratitude feels like.

You’re a true angel. 

 

When curls come alive !

My hair is  just like me,

It wants to live and be free!

It starts out ordinary,

then curls around where it feels merry.

It plays its own theme song

and grows however long!

But there’s no place for things like these

You have to dress, to please!

Every occassion demands a mask.

To school,it goes braided

So in the mosaic it can be easily faded

To a party, it must maintain decency

so we have serum to change its frequency.

To suit the environment

It must confine its rather beautiful scent.

But there’s always once place

on the corner of its terrace.

Where it can be,

where it finds its self simply free.!

where humming music lingers,

and shadow of trees dance,

it makes its own way ,

curls around at every chance.

Because in this silent place,

where there is no one to judge,

no feelings that urge.

No formalities to complete,

the wind blows casually..

Whispers to my hair, time to get a little silly!

No hairbands,

no blow drying strands,

No clips,

no artificial smiles and tips.

Just craziness abound,

My dear, curl around!Image