Too many heartaches that I've been experiencing in life, from betrayal to grief of death, at the moment, I don't think I'm able to write a gratitude letter.
But one thing I'm sure of is my gratitude of poetry. It has been the place where I can write my sadness into a poetic writing.
"I wake up and I am grateful, that I get one more day to write you. The fragrance of excitement the moment sunlight approaches my window, and gently touches my skin, warming my soul. Reminding me of our rendezvous. The one that has been going on since the day you left, the one that happens inside my world of words.
I am still here, sweetheart… and I don’t have a plan yet to leave.
We were something, our tale was not just a love story, it was a soul connection. For once I believed that soul mate existed.
As I spill my first letter, your reminiscent starts to pour in, and I let them to rhythm with the rain on my face.
Under warm sunlight, together they flow. Inside these words, I am knitting my blanket, letter by letter, words by words. A blanket that would warm my soul whenever it feels cold for it’s longing for you.
Inside this ink, I waltz, I jive, I cha cha cha, and I slow dance, with you. You are here, too, sweetheart, we are here.
You are alive inside this ink, the one that I have been spilling from the moment sun says hello to me, until it bids me goodbye, letting the moon and stars to appear and lighten up my midnight melancholy.
It's the touch that gives you comfort. It's the touch that makes you feel. It's something that no one else can ever steal. It's the sweetest human contact for the body and the mind. It's the connection where two bodies link and bind. Thank you for the power of hugs.
~SERENITY OF SMILE~
It doesn't take so very much, a cheerful smile, A gentle touch, to lift the cloud another bears, To help them feel somebody cares. There is one thing we all should know a smile is like the candle's glow. No matter how many candles share that light, its fullness still is there. Thank you for the beauty of smile.
~TANGO OF TEARS~
It's salty and warm, might be big or small. Sometimes when you're strong, it doesn't come up at all. It fills your eyes with moisture, rolling down your cheek. Sometimes it means joy, Sometimes it means weak. Thanks for the flavour of tears.
~CRYSTALS OF CARE~
We'd have helping hands that lead, Open arms accepting those in need, Not fingers pointing out misdeeds. We'd have eyes keen for good results, And not leering eyes that insult, Or ones always searching for faults. Thanks for the crease of care.
~HUES OF HUMANITY~
Helping even when you're weary Understanding other's pain Managing to let hurt go And forgiving once again Never losing faith or hope In the good of humankind Trusting man's intelligence while Yielding to the heart inside Thanks for the colours of humanity.
~DROPS OF DREAMS~
We slip beneath the pillow's spell And drift from heaven and into hell To lose control of conscious mind The secrets of our soul to find. Reflection of our dormant fears Once woken may reduce to tears. With sleep the master free to prey On untold thought which nightly stray. Thanks for the light of dreams.
~HAIL OF HOPE~
You can force the shadows back to the dark. Leave without a single scratch or mark. You can learn to live without your pain, Without putting yourself through this strain. You can learn all this if you only realize It only matters what perfect is in your eyes. Thanks for the magic of hope.
~WOMB OF WORDS~
I've seen spiteful words ruin a life And gentle words heal and bless; I've seen careless words stir up strife And tender words ease distress. I've watched silence speak out loud And idle chatter bring mischief; Seen timely words persuade a crowd And hasty words end in grief. Thanks for the power of tongue. ____________________________________________
Mirakee, Door no. 8-5-1-18-20, 4th cross, Metaphor street, Simile layout, Heaven.
Dear friend, When I take a walk through the curves of my cerebrum, I remember a prose called 'Whatever We Do' written by Clifford Martis, which was printed in my Class 9 English textbook. Although my peers found it as parched as a maple leaf, I never tried telling to someone how much I've ingrained the context of that winsome creation in myself. It is just as how you can never describe the beauty of fall and sepia filters to a person who grew up in his backyard of springs descrying aesthetic sunsets.
I've always tried to recognise what exactly makes me feel out of sorts at times. I've googled 101 ways to commit harmless suicides, and I still have the list unscathed. I've been to a counsellor asking ways to check if I'm bestowed with bipolar disorder. I've tried to sink my face in prussian blues and feel what it is like to drift away. I've felt everybody and when nobody felt what I was exactly going through, it was traumatic. And when somebody would tell me that sharing woes would help, I'd tell that I was an acrimony. I wanted to ruin myself, but at the same time, heal myself. And there came the therapy, and it was you.
You looked like the same normal abode which was never labelled, in the beginning. I never knew why I was exactly here, but somewhere, I heard voices in me sussurating that this would be my therapeutic home. I am rooted to myself more than anybody else, and so, I stayed. I never knew what writing was. I never knew that people can still talk with all casualties despites not having met. But you were there, and just because of that, I'm here today breathing my existence. I think upon myself being a framed portrait witnessing salt pestered oceans everyday, or else.
You filled my voids in ways I couldn't even sense. Keeping aside my discovery of finding my abyss and digging into it, I rather experienced something "euphoric and elegant". I never ever dreamt that my phalanges can curve and dance to the ballads of my brain and heart. You gave me people who felt my nuances and try to remove filth out of me without asking formal permissions. You gave me souls who could actually feel my absence in some way or the other, which was an attribute I always felt was remarkable. You brought a new change in me, something which I longed for, since months.
I still cannot fathom the fact that I too can bloom like a lovely sunflower amidst the growling graveyards who are stuck with burials of stereotypes. Your dear fragments gave me heartwarming emotions wrapped in yellow pages of my ancient tears. I've got life lessons to which I always try to hold on to. You became that 'someone' whom I always yearned to have beside. You're somebody who can paint illuminations in the other's heart fearless of losing its own colours. Although my voids still continue to be my ornaments, I can say that the scars have lessened over time. I feel so happy when I say that I've found my heart in the right place, and that can never be stated without my gratitude to you, my love.
I know that someday I'll have to leave your home, but I would tell you this: "Amidst distancing bodies and fading moments, there exist souls who never fail to water blossoms into each other, bring the safest sunrays in their burnt hands and construct successful empires of life and hope amidst all fearful deaths and calm less chaos. We are those souls, and our shades will colour each other forever."
Some things cannot be repaid even by selling souls, and you're that one person. You're an immortal holding my love and hate, and you know why.
Your proud resident S r i K r i s h n a P S | June 10, 2021 ______________________________________________
Non-fiction. Mirakee, I love you! Thank you for everything ❤️