November

“grey evenings”

This november was draped with
dampened, drenched roads,
cold winds, incessant showers,
brewed perfect coffee, frozen tiles,
quite absence and grey evenings.

This november had short sunshines,
the lack of warmth by sun outshone
my yearn for someone’s presence,
i sought comfort in diyas, in scented candles,
in moon, the crescent stringed my soul
swinging in eternal solitude.

This november made me leave
my heart in the handmade journal,
it convinced me, put together the
unembellished self amidst
jumbled letters and smudged pages,
i cried out and reconciled, restored
my tenderness with
nothing but the realistic truths.

This november made me miss this
gorgeous year, it still makes
me anxious about the unforeseen,
fortuitous, forthcoming days,
it caught me planning, replanning
and executing all that i want to
in the eleventh hour.

This november didn’t help me write
poems and proses, rather,
it taught me to fix,
the incompleteness and exit, mute
the complete affinities hanging
throughout.

This november was filled with
blurred pictures,
pictures of goals, people,
places, bits and pieces,
it had white flowers in the sky,
i strangely wished to pluck one
and tuck it in between my
tight french braid.

This november made my cry,
reconcile and cry one more time.
This november loved me like no other,
and hugged me for the last time, yesterday.


It feels so good to be back to the place that treats me like home. Hope you are all doing good. Will catch up all the posts I missed very soon.

Thank you so much for reading!

26 thoughts on “November

  1. Memories of November
    December Practically

    Old Enough to
    Be Father Time

    Yet i Am Winter
    Spring As Summer
    FLoWeRS Have

    Become

    Winter

    Leaves For
    Summer FLoWeRS
    Within in Fall December
    Before Winter Even Springs Fuller

    SMiLes Dear Hemalatha i Too Do Remember
    November School And Work Years in DarK
    Class Rooms And Office Spaces Without Windows

    Becoming More Machine Then Than Human Sadly True

    Out into the

    Nature of
    The Sunny
    Eternal Now

    Even Behind

    Clouds And Reflecting
    Moon Rays of Hope my
    FRiEnD As Morning Returns Full
    Again Home Awake Within So Warm And True

    For It’s True in The Breath of Poetry is Forevernow

    However We May Paint the Words And The Same is

    True When Every Move Becomes A Sacred Poetry

    Prompt Of Dance And Every Word We Sing of LiFE

    in Gratitude

    For All

    Loving Life Poetry

    DarK MaKinG LiGHT Come True..:)

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