The familiar sketch,

beside the table.

A warm and cozy feeling.

“Uncertain” said he

And they didn't matter.

For the sign

calmed the storm.

His touch soothed

the desires.

Words opposite

yet thirst quenched.

Certainity in uncertainity

My heart danced in anxiety.

The hymn

Sweat filled passion spoke

Assumptions the mind made

Words were spoken,

Loud, clear, uncertain

The paths winding

The stale words ringing

In the brain

Asthmatic breath

Blank lost stares

Incomprehensible, strange

Sighs and justifications

Que sera sera.

Untitled

Conversations

Soul of life.

Words strung for expressions,

Of the untold thought.

She had many everyday,

With faces around.

Some known, some unknown.

Yet the heart desired a conversation.

A sharing of sort,

Of making plans,

Of dreams and aspirations.

She thought and thought,

The mind- a basket of ideas.

But conversations, none.

And then there were conversations.

Animated and happy.

Her mind felt free,

Thoughts were expressed,

Eyes happy, nods exchanged,

With a reflection in the glass.

Silence 

suppressed thoughts

emotion flows 

communication nil,

yet words flow,

is this an imagination?

or intuition a reality?

holding on,

memories are packed

Fingers crossed.

Hoping the return 

would be to an embrace

Warmth and journeys.

She stood at the altar that year

Dreams in her eyes

Bags full of clothes and some hope

Whirl wind of feelings

Every moment of her day

She worked to keep it all intact

But the storm would strike

On dot, on time

This year she smiled. 

The doors were fixed 

The windows worked on

she was all prepared

The weatherman predicted

a bright sunny day

More smiles on her face

She sighed a relief

And then suddenly 

the storm hit her home

scattered things around

and she sat there

looking..... blank...

Erased???

Faint lines

Conversations ringing

Dreams knocked

Shut!!!

Those doors opened slightly

A tear dropped and wiped,

An attempted smile.

The difficulty of closing doors.

Parting IV

White canvas
And a painted dream
Of white swans
A beautiful lake
Green grass surrounding

Years passed by
The canvas grew old
Swans turned yellow
Water splashed on the lake
Green turned brown
Wear and tear
And one day
The canvas tore