MAKE ME DREAM AGAIN

I’d been in the hollow for so long,
Eyes closed, for then the darkness would be a choice, wouldn’t it?
Agonizing over being the one left behind.

She’d been a part of my essence, her loss iterated how truly big a part
Her dreams shattered like a mirror, pieces of glass piercing her bruises further,
Throat choked by the claws of despondency,
She let the lake of afterlife soothe it.
“Why can’t I come too?” – I’d begged.
A smile I got in return, nothing more… so much more.
Now the realization didn’t just dawn, it thrust through the wall of ice and broke it down.
Her smile was not quite just the curve of her lips, but an entire saga.

“I may die and yet live in my death, why, though, should you die while living?
I’d dreamt with my entire being. Passion flowing through my veins, not blood.
This dream fell apart, yes, it did. Oh, but, how well I’d dreamt!
I lived an eternity in my short life, and I still live on.
Why, then, should you cease to dream?
Why, then, my dear, should you cease to live?

Dream.

Even if it crushes you bit by bit, even if your heart bleeds.
For a wounded heart is better than a numb one.
And a brief existence is better than a bland one.
This world is such a beautiful place, make it exquisite with your spirit.
The entire sky is waiting for you, get out of your pit and fly.
Let your heart go wild and make your soul smile,
And when you lose hope, think of me.
For when we reunite in the Garden of Eden, let you be the storyteller amongst us.
Let you be the one with adventures.”

-Roselina Roby
 

LITTLE JOYS

Why do tears invariably pursue smiles?
Why after tremendous joy, heart cries?
Does it miss the goodness of older days?
Yearn to go back to that time and space?
Oh, but it can’t, doesn’t it know?
We have to change, we have to grow.
Then go out in the world and make it ours.
Make every juncture matter, all the minutes and hours.

Why is world so gloomy? Why are people forlorn and sad?
Why do days require to be assorted as good or bad?
Why have little snippets of bliss ceased to matter anymore?
Yet even the little sorrows batter the very heart’s core.
Oh, how can I judge? Ain’t I the same?
I’m elated, then sombre, then elated again,
Its just like a game.

But sorrows don’t walk, they prance.
One has passed? The other’s on its way.
So let’s just stay strong and be ready for it, whatsay?
And believe that even the tiniest iota of delight matters.
The insanity and the unnecessary chatters.
Then spread this happiness, if not always, then once in a while.
Do your bit- a greeting, a smile.
Consign to oblivion the extraneous, sad ponderings.
Relish a life in which soul dances and heart sings.

BEAUTIFUL?

As I look at you, I wonder;
What word should I describe you with?
What term would summarize with justice
all that you are and all that you have.
Are you beautiful?
Or are you a plain sight to behold?
Should I call you perfect?
Or should I acknowledge the abounding imperfections that form the wonderful disaster that you are.
And then I look at you again, really look at you,
and I see your smile, see contentment in your eyes,
I see the tranquil ocean that has decided to endure every storm with grace.
And I realize how I’ve been vain.
Is beauty all that we’ve held it to be?
For now staring at the mirror, I see happiness.
I see joviality, hope and peace all rolled into one.
And that, for me, is the most beautiful sight ever.
I am happy.
That is perfect enough.