Month: August 2024

Feel the breeze, blowing through my hair,
This breeze, it could take me anywhere,
Calmly, as I close my eyes,
Swiftly, my soul flies.

And I felt like the whole world was ours,
As I smelt the blooming flowers,
Oh! How the breeze flowed through the moist grass,
And here I wanted my life to pass.

Up on the green hill with a sigh, I stood,
The naughty breeze took away my hood!
With the breeze blowing on both my sides,
I swam away with the waves and tides.

On the lonely island, I didn’t feel alone,
This place, it felt like my own, my home,
And on the salty sunset beach,
I touched the sun, it was in my reach.

Down on the rocky river bank,
I thought about the people I should thank,
And in a small frosty mountain cave,
Many, I forgave.
With ease, I was dancing and humming,
Flying, back I was coming,
And so, calmly I opened my eyes,
And once again the breeze blew through my hair,
And indeed, it took me everywhere.

In the midst of every
Everything is so clearly a blur.
I seem to know the road,
But not the pace.

Each day is so properly woven
In the tangled threads.
What’s the matter? I don’t know.

Everything is so lovely.
Even the dilemma looks adorable.
Dust once under my shoes
Now all over like a mist.

It’s a lovely mist of green and blue,
and white and orange.
Sometimes black and even rosy hue;
Rainbow of gazillion colours
Amass in the garbled sky.

The mist shall fade soon.
Maybe also the reason for my ease.
But to be honest;
It’s all so lovely when it’s clearly a blur.

The rough winter cold sets in like a king claiming his crown
Sweet, sweet loneliness passes itself around
Broken souls in a dead world
Fragility is the only thing we humans have conserved
The earth is not dying, we are.

It doesn’t need life to live
We do and yet we seem to be taking it away
“Save the environment,” they say
But the environment doesn’t need saving, we do.
The earth will always become new
While our maladies will spread ceaselessly
Yet we take the damage unflinchingly
As we will continue to,
Until we realise how rough the winter cold has become
And our problems have survived this wild run.

It is us who lynched the sea
It is us who scorched the desert
It is us who adulterated the breeze
It is us who stopped the rebirth

Yet it is we who have to bear
The rough winter cold that comes with growing old
The earth flourishes as it grows older, we do not
It is not the earth that needs saving, it is its children
We cannot survive how rough the winter cold will become.