colors – My Spirals

Painting.

Black skies
With greying clouds of hair
Plastered to the sand dunes
That stretch down to where
two thick and furry cats lay.
Their tails spread graciously,
Just above the eyes.
Two distant planets,
Beyond understanding, and reach
Sparkle like a star under
The tails of the beings.
The tails touch each other,
At weird crooks and crevices,
So oddly
That surely they’ve been plucked.
Under the stars,
are heavy brown valleys,
With stories untold
awaiting poets.
The valleys vanish as a tall moutain
Strangely made of sand,
Stands right in the center
Of this very beautiful land.
It has no trees, or any signs of habitat.
To descend the mountain,
It would take a steep fall
But the landing will be soft
On the dying greyish-black bushes.
Pink lips,
and rivers inside
Will be where you’ve covered
The journey.
As you look around,
At the sand-paper landscapes,
You’ll be in awe,
For it was just a face
That you saw.

Previous post : Grey.
Related post : 98.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞

The big bang theory.

Big

This terrible world we live in, is beautiful.
Miracles are all around us. We are miracles. What else do we need to believe?

It’ll take a second for the next big bang to wipe our existence, and yet every morning the sun colors the sky in hues of orange, yellow and blue. Every morning the world wakes up, and somehow, we all live. The sky turns orange everyday as birds chirp, and leaves rustle. And then it turns yellow as we breathe, and feel. And then the blues change, as we make choices to live out our story.
Darkness is an inevitable part of light. Day in and day out, we lose faith and belief, and yet we never lose hope. Even when we are broken into a thousand and one shattered pieces, we still hold onto the tiniest sliver of hope that it will be better someday. Everything seems to go wrong, but we never do. The cosmic stars that made us always fall apart, but they never cease to fall apart forever.
We are made of stars and comets and light. Our fingers are the shooting stars that were wished upon hundreds of years ago, and our eyes are cosmic dust that we think is beautiful. We are all different, for the stars in our body and the light in our hearts is not from one single galaxy. We are made up of millions of galaxies. And just like them, we are beautiful too.
We can love. Among billions of souls that roam on this planet, we always find the lost pieces of the puzzle that we are. Friends, families or soul mates, we fit into their story and they fit into ours. We are all love stories, and poems that rhyme in no decided manner. We are infinities, and we don’t really care if ours is bigger or smaller. We are all the stories that overlap and we are the pen.
We have flowers, stars, and beings so far beyond us that all they know is love. We have sunsets, and mountains that shout back our names. We have fragrances that awakens our desires, and we have each other. We have colors. We have feelings, and we have hearts.
It’ll take a second for the next big bang to wipe our existence, and yet every night the moon shines bright enough to let us shine too. The sky turns black with white spots that are just us waiting to be born again, a thousand years from now.

I know it’s terrible. But it’s beautiful too, all you have to do is find the perfect place for you.

Bang

Previous post : Blind hearts.
Related post : Mirror

Blind hearts.

The blind man
Across the street
Sees more
Than the men around him
Who won’t lend him a hand.
He feels objects
With his fingers,
His ears,
And his anticipation;
And wonders more often
About how beautiful
This life is.
He knows no difference
Between red and blue
And yet tells his daughter
That she looks beautiful
In that black dress of hers.
He thanks you
For every little thing
Because he knows
Gratitude
More than you do.
He doubts himself
More times than not;
But he knows how to
Trust his gut.
He is blind,
And he is across the street.
A street you’d only cross,
If you were blind too.

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Related post : Painting.