2:29 PM, THURSDAY, 11TH JANUARY...

Time's footsteps, has an immutable rhythm The Past, present, or the tomorrows...

- BY MADHUMATHI H.

It's our mind, that perceives the pace
In acceptance, time might feel kinder...

Pain, the only constant in decades of journeys on Earth
Yet, mentored, moulded, showed me "how not to be"
Still learning to "let go" without regrets
Still wishing to hold on to "hope"...

Listening to the heart, obeying the mind
Isn't that a meaningful decision, pain teaches?!
Heartbreak, after heartbreak, life taught unloving is an art, too
Distancing, closure, are part of healing, too...

When I write poems, hope gently sits beside me
Gratitude looks deep into my eyes, I smile...
My dreams put their arms around my shoulder
Together, they make me see my own light within...

If I can plant hope in art, foresee my healing
Even after facing a thousand storms, i look forward to sail
Let my poems be my own anchor, tour guide in the unknown
For art never knows to abandon...

Drained, as i drown in my own tears
I simultaneously journal the lessons learnt, too...
"Abundance in loving, boundaries in giving", reiterated life
"Not allowing" to be used, is a beautiful form of self-care...

New year, new calendars, diaries mark new beginnings
But it can happen on a random Thursday 2:29 pm, January 11th, too