Skip to main content

Mist

Morning mist will cast its spell 
Over the vale,
Over the hills,
by leisurely descending towards the land,
Bringing heaven on earth by its mystic magic wand.
As long as it lovingly brushes the mountain tops,
As long as it lingers on the heights where fearless kites and eagles soar ,
mist is a welcome sight.
But, it being master of its own will
If wishes comes quite down the hills,
as if to fondle the low lying grass.
It veils the view around,
It flimsily blindfolds every eye,
that ventures to look from its balcony  towards where  a few days back stood the hope.
Hope of being in the view of the long lost dear ones,
Whose hearts once beat in a unison.
Though separated ages ago they had not stopped beating for their cherished ones.
Mighty mist seems reluctant to hear their pray that it should stay majestically high in sky and shouldn't hinder the reverie of the broken hearts by stooping down.







Labels:

Comments

  1. Reena NagpalJuly 4, 2022 at 11:19 AM

    Beautifully written

    ReplyDelete
  2. Nomadic SoulJuly 5, 2022 at 6:13 AM

    You are a magician with words, You are blessed to have the power to communicate your feelings thru your writing and make others feel your emotions. Feels like it's not your experience but ours as well. Look forward to being a part of this journey and see world thru such a beautiful prism of your words.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Do leave your comments

Popular posts from this blog

When Skill Meets Determination:A Salon, A Story and a Salute

Since time immemorial, both men and women have wished, ventured, and craved to look good, better, and sometimes the best. In every nook and corner of the world, whether in a bustling city, a quiet suburb, or a small village, salons and beauty parlours stand as testimony to this universal desire. With each generation, the dependence on such services has grown, shortcuts have become acceptable, and professional grooming has turned into a necessity rather than a luxury. This observation isn’t a conclusion drawn from research; it is born from personal experience with my twenty-one-year-old daughter. Having recently begun to manage her life independently, she is particular about her appearance and outlook. For the past three years, she has been living abroad and returns home every December for a month. During this time, she sweetly wishes to be pampered in every possible way. One such indulgence is getting her hair washed and blow-dried at a salon so that her curtain bangs remai...
10 comments
Read more

Fire

Fire, fire, fire, Can I dare to beg of you to be hired? Hired by someone as fragile as me, A timid soul, afraid to set herself free. I know I am too timid to dream of taming you; It is idiosyncratic, perhaps, to think this through. It is in no way wise to walk these lines, Yet your fierce companionship my spirit designs. I want you by my side to help me burn away All that is negative, all that leads astray; All the weeds in the dying, diminishing garden of my life, All the bitterness, sorrow, and silent strife. The effigy of greed, of need, and all that dares To kill fine human values and replace them with snares, Needs to be set on fire, yet I feel My weak bones lack such divine zeal. Though I aspire to rise like a phoenix from my ashes, To emerge renewed after life's cruel clashes, For that, you must become my ally, A force within that will never let me die. Fire, you who are a symbol of both death and resurrection, Of destruction, creation, and sacred transformation, You graciou...
15 comments
Read more

Silence

Silence is serene. Silence is solace. In several ways, silence saves the savage soul. Silence is static, strong, like sky-kissing mountains circling a sleepy hill town. Silence is somber when it stems from sadness. Silence strives to sleep over sickening strategies. Silence confers the childlike sleep upon the soulful, while it steals the peace of the soulless. Silence smiles and silences all conjectures. For a few, silence is a sweet remedy; for others, silence is a malady. For some, silence is a question impossible to crack. For others, silence is the answer to every crux. For some, silence is a shield. For others, the sharpest knife, the searing scythe. Most times, aparently silence saves bonds. At times, it breaks them into forms unrecognizable. Silence wears the face of a silent sage, yet stands indisputed as  a symbol of untamed rage. Life screams. Death silences. silence is a voice in itself, raising walls too high for unwanted noise to climb. Silence is a misunderstood path...
12 comments
Read more