#renaissance

78 posts
  • k_unwinds 13w

    Dawn savours like renaissance
    Crumbling the catastrophe
    Creating cascades of glory!
    ©k_unwinds

  • serrated_ink 14w

    ��

    I don't exactly remember when was the last time I got drenched in rain.. Earlier, every time when the rain showered on me, I always felt good and happy about it.. But today, it was different.. When I got stuck in there nd all my cloths got wet, I felt some kind of clinginess towards my wet soul.. I felt like the drops rolling is taking down all my fears, my sorrows.. It felt like my disheartened soul is getting cleaned and clear about what has already happend in my life, and about what I want to have now.. It felt same as the earth getting washed away from the pollution and a clear sky can be seen, soon after the rain ends.. Nature teaches us lessons so pure and beautiful, with so much ease that it get pinned inside us.. We just need to let it sink in..
    Today, I literally danced in the rain and now I feel alive again..
    I feel, now I can write a long story about the renaissance of a dead soul, a story about the rebirth of the nature each time the rain showers..
    _____________________________________________________________


    #prose #wod #pod #renaissance #rain #raindance #dance #rainy #lalawrites #love #selflove #self #writersbay #writersnetwork #readwriteunite #miraquill #mirakee

    @writersnetwork
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    @miraquill

    July 16, 2021
    17:58

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    Dancing at the toe_tip,
    On the rhythm of the dead soul,
    Feeling, alive again..

    ©serrated_ink

  • serrated_ink 18w

    ATTIC: Forlorn Truth..
    .
    .
    It was three in the morning, I woke up to the sound of pouring rain.. The cozy weather was making me nostalgic.. Suddenly, my thoughts were scattered by a rolling sound, it was coming from the roof.. My body got numb but mind went into the curiosity land..

    My shivering foot stand on the last stair at the ickled wooden door of the attic, that rolling sound gradually grew, while i was leading towards the old garret..

    I entered into that loft, if was covered with the cobwebs and the white bedlinens overlayed on all the old boxes, almirahs and also on that broken sofa.. While my eyes were saccading fast, it stopped at the tiny tree house which was once my favourite place to hide in..

    I saw, someone sitting into my old tree house.. Fear ran into my veins but it feels like I was so known to her.. My steps were not in my control it went towards her and I sat near her, she smiled at me and continued to color her drawings..

    She was me from my pre-teens, happy in her own world.. She has everything, that I wished, I have now.. Those old drawing books, crayons, a small kitchen set and most importantly the jolly vibes..

    While I was busy in my nostalgic thoughts, I felt she was staring at me as if she wanted to ask something.. I could read in her eyes that urge of growing up fast, into a young women, her expressions says it all..

    But little did she knew, its tough here, to live up in my present age.. Its lonely here with a bricked body, crumbled heart and a different mindset.. You realize the reality of the world, the line between sanity and insanity, the boundaries of rights and wrongs.. That excitement of growing up early feels like lame thoughts.. All you want is go back in time and hide again in your old tiny wodden tree house..

    Suddenly, my thoughts interrupted with the same rolling sound which brought me up here, and my surrounding again turned into the cobwebbed attic.. It was cold, and to I turned pale, I looked back to know what's rolling.. Screamed into fear, I saw a rodent running over the broken sofa.. Hurried, I went to my bed..

    But now I think,
    I saw this coming when I was a child..
    I still feel all the good vibes of my childhood.. I live in nostalgia..

    But today I witnessed that life has its own path which we all have to walk on.. And the mantra of living is to love what you have, work hard for what you desire and be grateful of what you already had..

    When I was a child
    Wanted to grow real soon..
    Now,
    When m grown young
    I want to feel my pre-teen toons..
    ________________________________________________________

    #attic #wod #pod #lalawrites #childhood #nostalgic #readwriteunite #writersnetwork #writersbay #mirakee #miraquill #renaissance #young #life

    Pic credit to the rightful owner..♥
    ��editz: me..��

    @writersnetwork
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    ATTIC: Forlorn Truth..

    When I was a child
    Wanted to grow real soon..
    Now,
    When m grown young
    I want to feel my pre-teen toons..

    ©serrated_ink

  • thebhavnasaxena 19w

    Announce - Renounce- Renaissance

    Oh my heart,
    Be as a petal,
    Let's float away
    To happier times
    Where there are
    Berries on the grass,
    And swings on mango trees.

    Oh my heart,
    Be not the cold graveyard,
    Of moments I shudder to
    Look back upon,
    Let's light a bonfire,
    Borrowing some fire
    From the sun, and plunge
    Into it all the skeletons
    Weighing you down.

    Oh my heart,
    Will you be my guiding star,
    Let your spark ignite my soul.
    Oh my heart,
    Won't you be my marching drum,
    Let your beats announce to the universe,
    Here she comes, reborn in the sea of time,
    Descending upon a world in chaos,
    Like a spell from eons ago,
    There's an enchantment in her touch,
    Revolution is its name.
    ©thebhavnasaxena

  • divana_ds 20w

    Nothing endures for a lifetime
    The falling leaves said
    But There is a hope of Renaissance
    Flourishing Tree said.
    ©divana_ds

  • hansikasr 20w

    Renaissance

    "Every morning smelled like a rebirth!"
    They exclaimed.
    "Fall in love, you will smell death every night!"
    Broken hearts sighed!
    ©hansikasr

  • moon_was_once_leo 20w

    Melody of this malady
    Stuck it on my lips
    Like bite of
    Sweet summer honeybee

    I kept singing off
    Its verses
    In octave halves

    Yet you my love
    My forgotten rebirth
    Keep coming
    In haunting glittery moon dress
    Of child's play

    And I can't stop
    But to dance
    Like I never exist.

    ©moon_was_once_leo

    @writersnetwork #rebirth #renaissance

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  • ana_vah 20w

    I am a receptacle of hope and desolation,
    Each my master, but in turn.
    Today I sit among filth and squalor,
    To have my misery then upturned.
    I live among a resurrection,
    That is never deemed complete.
    Through renaissance of predilection
    I am rendered insane, unfit.
    Too many contradictions,
    The essence of my growth,
    Towards the Scorching sun or away,
    My senses hardly know.
    And as I dither perpetually
    Betwixt nadir and zenith,
    My ambitions fluctuate from
    Torture to then bliss.
    And whatever promises you hold,
    A renaissance of expectations,
    Nightmares take odd turns,
    In blessings find their conclusion.
    ©sens_ual_poetry

    5. 6. 21

  • cardelljhardy 20w

    Heart of Stone

    Prick my heart to feel the emotions
    So You can reveal Your plan in motion.
    Remove the stone that chokes it out.
    So I can find out what true love is all about.
    Do a Renaissance of my human self.
    And enhance and embrace my spiritual self.
    Remove this heart of stone
    For a true soft heart of flesh.
    ©cardelljhardy

  • realnotreel 20w

    "ℛ����ℯ ����ℴ�� ����ℯ ������ℯ��"
    Be renewed after destruction

    #idiom
    #expression
    #rebirth
    #renaissance

    In classical mythology, the phoenix was a unique bird resembling an eagle that lived for five or six centuries in the Arabian desert. After this time it burned itself on a funeral pyre ignited by the sun and fanned by its own wings and was then born again from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle of life. The simile like a phoenix from the ashes is used of someone or something that has made a fresh start after apparently experiencing total destruction.

    P.C - Pinterest

    @mirakee
    @writersnetwork
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    ©realnotreel

  • lone_dolphin 20w

    #renaissance #chrysanthemum

    Renaissance is a French word symbolic of 'Rebirth'
    How about the Rebirth of 'PATIENCE' ?

    ===========================================

    Yonder lies that short day plant ,
    Water it not , sure it won't rant

    Just once a week and t'was all,
    Wouldn't bloom, stood straight and gall;

    Planted it back in April or May ,
    Awaiting a bloom, I'd even pray!

    It basked in sunbeam by the day ,
    With brisky winds, it'd nod 'n sway,

    Sunny days elapsed, rains came in,
    Sympathetic droplets, still glitching!

    The last bytes of patience jaded,
    Avid enthusiasm clearly had faded;

    Stately Autumn in September blushed,
    The shoot , Good God, how it flushed:

    A terminal bud , still the "dormant " Mum,
    Phenomenal awe had me frozen numb;

    Awaiting the arrival :the very next dawn,
    Saccharine dreams: the spawn in lawn,

    And Lo behold : the scenario at it's best,
    Picturesque beauty, all hearts it behest -

    The generous bunch , all Lavender and Red,
    Aroused enfolded dreams as emotions bled,

    'Renaissance' winged on hopes of mirth,
    As all soar,' May they remain down to Earth'

    @lone_dolphin
    (Aindrila Chakraborty)

    ===========================================
    Here, I speak of an enchanting flower, "Chrysanthemum", the flower of LOVE! Commonly known as "Mums"

    PS : Late night scribbles �� I wonder if this makes sense ������
    Thank youuuuuu for the ❤️ WN !!!

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    EVOLUTION is deemed
    to apparently take ETERNITY,
    The ideology of 'Renaissance' winged on
    Hope of Mirth gives a soul ENTITY..
    ©lone_dolphin

  • serrated_ink 20w

    Knowing her is arduous
    As she wears the gold cape tight
    Hiding all her scars and fears right..
    She was easy, untill she knew her stature
    For once, she was just a thread of a kite..

    As the candle's flame fueled her heart
    Her self worth ignite
    And then she took renaissance in the free air of delight..

    ©serrated_ink

  • yasasvee_varsha 20w

    A new thought, is a renaissance of something bygone !

    ©yasasvee_varsha

  • sonu99 20w

    ART IS THE PHOENIX EXPLORING RENAISSANCE IN EACH AND EVERY ERA.
    ©sonu99
    04/06/2021

  • shandilyaritika 20w

    Renaissance

    The day you realise faith and encourage thyself,the moment Renaissance commences itself.

    ©shandilyaritika

  • nehahemaraj 20w

    .

  • kanikachugh 20w

    How do I give love to you
    when I am in search of finding it for myself.
    All the truckload of love I had within
    I showered onto so many
    like snowflakes & confetti.
    The myriad pieces touched
    maximum of masses
    resting on different parts of their body
    calming their nerves down,
    but emptying me at the same time.
    The barter system I didn’t anticipate.

    Now that they are gone
    I’ve got to find those pieces of myself
    to complete the puzzle again.
    Some pieces that got burnt
    stings my hand the moment I touch it,
    some got soaked in materialistic waves
    & forgot their real shape,
    some got crushed under cracked concrete
    forgetting their own needs,
    & few that I might not
    be able to find it ever.

    And to create those
    new,brave mini me(s)
    I have to wander in solitude,
    crack open my bottled up emotions,
    gulp the shame of disappointment,
    forgive myself for a heart big as a crater,
    & mingle with my soul again.
    Those parts I weave
    must have the shadows of polite past
    with a lesson learned in present.
    Not sure how long
    will this renaissance take.

    How can I make you wait when I know
    how waiting for someone,feels.
    Even though I understand your heart
    what if those new pieces don’t want you, ever!
    How can I do this to you when I have
    gone through that pain myself?

    I would be betraying even before
    I commit myself to you.
    How can I love when I am an empty vessel still trying to fill?

    What they see isn't always true.
    I’ve been hiding the burning, dying
    parts of me in my hands behind my back
    wearing a broad smile in front.
    I have been precariously walking forward
    but they complain of me marching backwards
    and sometimes I believe them.
    The struggle they don't understand
    The smile I wear to keep my foothold.

    I don't wish to trash anyone with my agony
    I don’t wish to burden anyone
    under my emotional breakdown.
    Not even you!
    If you enter my life at this point
    I might lean on you completely.
    You might even help me heal
    but I feel that would be temporary.
    And, if after I heal I might
    leave & seek something
    that attracts my new mosaic soul.
    Or worse,
    I might not be able to leave
    & stay with you in a loveless bond
    feeling obliged to be with you
    because you were with me in my sour times.
    That would be toxic.

    How can I do this to you?
    How can I do this to myself?

    ©kanikachugh
    @writersnetwork @mirakee #renaissance #wod

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  • artemiswrites 20w

    You ask me why I write.
    I tell you that before Writing made itself
    known to me,
    I was a 14th century Italian city,
    devoid of artistic beauty,
    until Writing seeped into my
    cobblestoned alleys, and ushered in
    Renaissance,
    My skin became streets bursting with
    art galleries and libraries,
    I became home for Art to rest in.

    You ask me why I write.
    I tell you that Writing is the rainshower
    to my parched mango orchard.
    Seedlings of Life sing a
    Song of Rebirth and bury
    deep into my soil;
    I feel like Life has found itself
    in me again,
    that it doesn't feel a Loss of Identity
    anymore.

    You ask me why I write.
    I tell you that Writing is a Land
    that is my entirely my own,
    its earth sings to me,
    its air leaches away the sorrow
    that has sunk deep into the
    Mariana Trench of my soul.

    You ask me why I write.
    I can give you so many reasons,
    all coated in powdered sugar poetry
    but you see, I have so much to say,
    my thoughts are as endless as the
    Earth's seas,
    and they will swallow me, if I don't
    let them out through the
    nib of my pen.

    I write, because I have no choice.
    ©artemiswrites

  • de_ife_7 20w

    Deep Shore.

    I went to the seashore,
    to greet the water and sounds of better.
    to meet an expedience of vengeful waves; palatable storms of life.
    August whispered harmattan breathe.

    An expedience of vengeful waves,
    speaking in signals of a windy radio,
    to frighten lest eyes fall asleep.
    Present prize of plaque promnesia.

    To frighten lest eyes fall asleep,
    heavy caskets of trees hang over the sad moon.
    When the wind breathes, the cradle must fall.
    The sand tells an ancient tale, a visit of gloom.

    When the wind breathes the cradle must fall,
    showers of rain far from the ghost tapper's,
    urgently impeach the day star's maxim.
    high tide, ride man glide.

    I went to the seashore,
    to perceive things that seem unsure,
    Does death walk at ease on shore?
    Dear hollow sounds of baneful minstrelsy.
    ©de_ife_7 ___________adeifeoluwaalo@gmail.com

  • sumana_chakraborty 20w

    Love is such a colossal wonder
    Believe me
    An addiction, galore
    that even if you get hurt ,
    even if you cry a lot,
    you can't keep it asunder
    the fragrance of that
    Rendezvous resembles
    Rajnigandha which seamlessly
    enliven your heart's glee.

    Drown in it, O friend
    Drown in its depth
    In its plethora of umpteen grace
    Open your heart's door.
    Rediscover your entirety
    Your soul's serendipity
    Coruscate thy realm
    Bring renaissance
    Within your own being
    Before it's too late.

    You'll never forget its aroma
    you'll turn around ,
    look back , smile within
    and move forward
    Reminiscing that
    passionate nostalgia.

    I know very well those who fall in love,
    they bleed a lot.
    It's a realm of life
    where everyone
    has stepped once or twice.

    ©sumana_chakraborty