The wind whispers, the crows chirp
the branches dance and the river runs.
The sky gimmers, the creatures lurk,
the animals prance, and the silence hums.
While we're asleep, the night comes alive,
only waiting for the day to arrive.
The beauty of the night, so wild and free,
what a beautiful night for it to be.

Going through my old notebook.
Page by page,
Line by line,
I found phrases I wrote for you —
Raw but true.
Some lines, which even today,
Brought me back to my rue.

My book was pointing towards
An unsung outcry,
Asking me questions — unsolved,
Poking me to answer: “The why?
Hey! Give it a try!”

I found some paragraphs — meaningless.
They have just lost their tenderness.
Stories of my loved adversaries,
Poems about my daunting memories.

They say my book is petrifying,
For it has some pages with moments —
Electrifying.
It still has some pages empty,
Yellow and old,
Stating and defining my dreams —
The stories that remained untold.

I know I was drawn to coming here                                                             ­                                               
to a dark room with a mind to
clear                                                            ­                                                  
                                                                ­                                                      
I need some time to think about me                                                               ­                                            
                                                                 ­                                              
And find out what my life needs to be                                                               ­                                                          
 I have a habit of blaming myself                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                             
    Give all my love to everyone else                                                             ­                                                
   So, what I have been repressing                                                                  ­                                                
Has bubbled up & effervescing                                                     ­                                         
A hard battle that I have to win                                                              ­                  
                                                                ­                                                  
   Am I worthy of self-forgiving?                                                                     ­                                                 
    It's time to let all the past go   
                                                                ­                                               
Less ebb & much more flow

You lost things
that had names.

Dreams,
people,
parts of yourself
you'll never fully get back.

But you still open your chest
to the wind.
You still say yes.

And that-
that is holy.