World Storytelling Day is a global celebration of the art of oral storytelling. It is celebrated every year on March 20. On World Storytelling Day, as many people as possible tell and listen to stories in as many languages, at as many places as possible to learn from each other. ( source : wikipedia )
Do stories play an important role in your life ? Why ? Share it with the community.
Finally, a new poem written! Although it is pretty much a free-verse, I'm going to explore writing free-verse for now ♡. Our school workload is starting to ease for the first time in months, so I may spend more time writing. Thank you!
Rispetto #1: Poem comprised of two quatrains written in iambic (unstress, stress) tetrameter (four feet--or, in this case, 8 syllables).
Rispetto #2: Poem (or song) comprised of 8 hendecasyllabic (11-syllable) lines--usually one stanza.
Both versions appear to follow this rhyme scheme: ababccdd (though I also found a mention of an abababcc pattern). Plus, I found more than a few sources which claim rispettos were originally written to pay "respect" to a woman.
3:09 I was lying on the surgical table covered by the green sheets. The large surgical light was blinding my eyes while the anesthesia had been injected into my body. The dizziness was not immediate like I had imagined, it was slow and thorough unlike my life has been. I had fear and joy rushing in at the same time. The doctor told me to start counting backwardly and I followed with his instruction. As those numbers were taking over my lips, my weak heart sank with anxiety because I knew that it won't be there when I wake up. Memories of my childhood, my screams which called for my mother, my brother's hug in my arms and my beloved's touch on my lips is what brought me comfort at the moment of incomplete numbness in my entire body. The spiral of dizziness began with endless memories I had lived and the moments I had desired. It felt inevitable to escape that feeling of falling into the black hole of unconsciousness. There was just one thing which was a condolence to my soul that the next time I wake up, a new healthy heart will be at the left corner of my chest and I will hug my happiness forever and that happiness would be the smile on the faces of whom I love, my mother, my brother, my beloved and my father watching from heaven.
My sub-conscious began flashing the images of my past. My mother, her tensed face sitting at the corner of the hospital bawling her eyes out for the short lifespan her child was fated with. She wished to cut the threads of destiny but nothing seemed to be in her poor hands. She was in her mid 30s raising her nineteen year old child who had been diagnosed for severe arrhythmia. The last hope for her child was a heart transplant.
I had been waiting for my number to arrive as to receive the gift of life. At some point, I had left all my hopes and I wanted my family to leave their hopes too and let me die but I was destined with a strong family. The shadow of my brother's will for me to get well soon and his unlimited prayers and wishes to god crossed my unconscious mind. I could see him smiling with tears in his eyes. It was like he could fall on his knees any moment and I would run with my consistent beating heart to him and will kiss on his forehead to give him a hug like he always did.
A reflection of my beloved, the hope and the belief in her soul for me to get well soon was clearly visible in her eyes. She was standing in front of a mirror clenching her fists in nervousness. I never knew my unconsciousness was so strong to lead me to a place where I meet all those whom I loved but now I did.
Lastly, I saw my mother smiling and calling me towards her. The more I moved forward, the more she felt far. It was making me anxious. I wanted to touch her but couldn't. I sprinted with all the energy I had and suddenly I was out of that place.
I opened my eyes and saw the white hospital ceiling above me. The room was cold and I spotted a nurse. I asked, "What time is it?" She appeared shocked and without answering she ran outside to call the doctor. I breathed deeply inside the nasal cannula and felt my heart beating rhythmically. It was melodiously beating for me to feel happy and moreover safe.
The doctor entered my room and asked, "how are you feeling now?"
"Where is my mother, brother and-?"
"Oh..I will call him for you" the doctor said in a low toned voice.
I sensed something was wrong. My brother with his red teary eyes looking weak and tired wore a sad smile. "How are you feeling now?"
"Is something wrong?"
My brother looked into the eyes of the doctor and the doctor signalled him a confirmation.
He took a step forward and handed me a letter and broke down into tears.
I unfolded the piece of paper which said:
"Dear son, I could never tell you what you meant to me after your father passed away. The life of a single mother is like an empty pot which is filled with jewels of joy by his children. Regrets are not meant to exist and this is why I am leaving a piece of me in your chest as a gift forever. Do not ever think that I left because I exist within you now. Do all what you want to do, live with all the happiness you wanted to be with and love all that you have. I couldn't have survived without you either, I was destined to die anyway, my dear. Never take this as a burden and make a promise to live as long as my heart beats."
Happiness shread. Gift unfurled. For the first time ever, together.