Wandering With Words

Random musings of a reckless soul.


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Rainbow tree

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In the dark there was a Rainbow.

 

When the night brings darkness

A ladder descends

Each star a rung.

Pretending to sleep, I ascend

Clouds under my feet

Feel soft and warm

The moon a ballroom floor

Stars my partners

“I admire you every night”

Say I, to the moon

“So do I”  she repeats

I smile when company arrives

Under my feet the raindrops sprout to life

Come with us and feel the surge

I relent when they urge

Flying down, nearing my bed

They tucked me in and sang my lullaby

When in a while I opened my eyes

 

In the dark there was a Rainbow.


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Colours of Life.

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“The stone rolled aside and I was born again.”

Memories have become vague.

But I remember lying in bed, scared. On a hot summer day, covered in sheets, I waited for sleep – the only reprieve for my dying soul. I pulled the sheets over my head and tried hard to hold back the tears that fought wildly.

What happened? Why the betrayal?

Strange cruel people in my dream repeated these questions. They cudgeled me with it and I couldn’t find an answer.

It was the moment in life when every breath you take hurts. The darkness around me screamed. In the land of grief, once again, I began to cry.

And then I heard the noise. It started soft but then slowly, as if to remind me of my grief, it turned violent.

My fingers closed into fists and my nails dug into my palm. I wished that it would all stop – the screaming in my head, the heavy pattering of rain and my heart.

But it didn’t.

Sleep continued to play coy and finally not able to endure it any longer; I pulled the sheets aside, swung my legs over the edge of the bed and sat with my head in my hands. The noise of the downpour was louder than ever. It wasn’t just raining, it was pouring.

For a reason I can’t remember, I stood up and walked stealthily to the terrace. I stood at the centre, allowing the raindrops to hit my face; to hide the tears. The last two weeks had been horrible. Perhaps I wished that the rain would cleanse me of the pain. Or perhaps I just wished it would drown me.

But the longer I stood there – with my eyes closed, hands still curled into fists – miraculously, the pain started to wane and the pricking of the raindrops started to feel sickly sweet.

I had never enjoyed rain until then, not in that way. I had danced in the rain with friends, walked in the rain, but never alone.

That sunny evening marked my friendship with Her.

Slowly my fists loosened and finally uncurled. But my eyes remained shut. “No,” said my mind. “The pain will return.”

“Let go,” whispered my heart.

“You will die!” argued my mind.

“You already have died,” said my heart, “It’s time to be born again.”

Once more I do not know why I paid heed to the heart that had caused me so much pain. But I opened my eyes. What I saw awed me and it filled me with pain but unlike the previous one this pain was sweet, very sweet.

She kissed me and welcomed me to this new world while I simply stared and continued to be awed. What I saw spread a warmth through my body and gradually for the first time in days, my lips curled into a smile.

I stood there for a long time, getting drenched, embracing the beautiful sight.

The Rainbow.

Nature became my best friend; and that’s how I was born again.