Writing,
Makes me live
With passion
Writing,
Is like living
Breathing
Air moving in
And out of my lungs
Fills in my spirit
With a love that
Otherwise, cannot be
Felt through one's
Very core of the
Self one contains within
And shows off
Under the layers
Of ego, self awareness
Or what have you!
It smells of perfume,
Of roses and jasmines
Or marigold
Of holy basil
Gardens of Gardenias
Filling my soul
To a journey
From here to beyond
Holding me by hand
I wish I go back
To rewrite the poem
Called life
And erase all those
Painful moments
Yet life in its entirety
Is a bouquet of
Colorful flowers
Which cannot rid
Of them thorns
Which make
The colorful yet
Passionate life
That we carry
Preciously along
In the beautiful heart
Making life even
More lovingly
Precious,
Like you
And yours!
No comments:
Post a Comment