Saturday, 31 December 2016

Fresh Rhythms

Fading away, parting as tears fall with a fear that there is no return, it starts to brighten up and slowly gets closer with a pure hope that the present will always be magical.

When only she rises and turns, she feels the fresh rhythms, standing firmly, breathing deeply, she walks ahead, a half smile looking good on her face. Cheers!

Wednesday, 28 December 2016

The Ecstatic Look

Softness of the wet dirt spoke and told Shelley how it passed its secrets to the flowers and the wind and the sky and the sun.

Stones, cold and musical, held epics to share, so Shelley took a few in his pocket.

A lonely tree filled Shelley’s ears with endless tales about messiahs that walked and disappeared, blessing every of its kind on the way with blissful shade to ever stay by them. It assured Shelley that this was the tale that the leaves were always singing about. When Shelley stopped to ask a leaf, the leaf swayed by and danced away.

Then the wind slowed down and everywhere stillness started to settle, Shelley looked at the pink polished cloudy sky. In this stillness the ecstatic was happening and Shelley could see it for the first time.

Elated, Shelley got up and looked all around. Taking the softness of the wet dirt along, Shelley continued the journey.

My Time

My time. My time to rule and regain. My time to change and develop. My time to cashback. My time to realise the certainty. My time to live...