The hope is there…it always was... Shadowed by some unknown ecstasy of thoughts…something similar to the destroyed meadows near a country side village. Trapped inside the dark black box of fear with no ray of radiance...The fear of losing self to the world ...The fear of portraying the real self in the canvas of reality…losing the real self in the impotent crowd of hypocrites, self pity, guilt, victimization, surrender..
But the tiny Robin bird is still awake ready to build its nest bit by bit in the broken tiny branch of the Oak tree… Her soul gets encapsulated discarding the redundant thoughts and circumstances that had wing clipped her long back. She wants to fly high fluttering her broken wings among the fluffy mass of blue clouds negating the west winds that seemed to blow off her courage once...
The tree is green again and fair to look upon...tall and proud...opening their tender green leaves… she greets the invincible revolution that’s phenomenal and its occurring right inside her, deep within...
That’s a new her with no guilt of being herself…wearing her true skin vibrant and happy like never before ...ready to live in the world that’s completely unlike her being someone that’s just her…
Hope,
ReplyDeleteI was always there
All these while
You were too busy with Ego
Logic and Ignorance
Now that you are free
Look around
Smile and spread my fragrance