my thoughts of home

writings about warmth and love

Been raining

For months, it has been raining,

yet you came like the morning sun.

Sun rays peeking through the forest trees.

For a long time,

I knew nothing

but an overcast weather,

but now, there’s you

drying up the grass.

It is greener now.

A room full of art

As I set foot into a room of art,

I was engulfed by my awe for the classics.

I have imagined our epoch

depicted in a painting.

and my perspective encapsulated in a novel.

a monologue of nostalgia

with the disadvantage

of zooming in to the past

through rose-tinted lens

Have I composed too much letters

in a period when they are already

device-generated?

I have pictured us as artisans

and we live in a world

where our artistic intentions

are more talked about

than our blunders.

Even a vacant room becomes a gallery

once we stepped into it.

Moonstruck

a serene night,

a moonlit stroll,

a slow dance after a flight,

dusks after a deep bawl

It was a quintessence of yearning;

It was a scene where one was suppressing emotions while obviously clinging to recollections, whereas the other was declaring his feelings through his stance and some cues.

They share a warmth that had been concealed until it reappeared bit by bit.

Quick glances turned into prolonged stares.

Now, the glow in their eyes is crystal clear and they are dressed with a spark that can light up any city.

Since

Since when did we become conscious of being vocal about what we like?

Since when did we halt our interest in things that make us feel like a child?

Since when did we start postponing our giggles and beams?

The old me would be too preoccupied to search for you in a crowd, whereas my present version has made amendments. I'd like to gaze at you even when we are in a room full of people you know.

I still yearn for the good old times, the guilt-free moments when we can laugh at our flaws including a wrong choice of outfit and for the calm that followed storm after storm.

To love and be loved

to love and be loved

by a love that isn’t superficial

but by a genuine one

to love and be loved – not for show

but even when no one is watching

to love and be loved

even when everyone is verifying

to love and be loved

because of one’s deliberate choice

and not because it is a chore

or an age requirement

to love and be loved incontestably

under the same stars

under the same storms