Belle

heinz

"What I want is current news! This is yesterday's news, your article is already a historical account!"

Nothing like working with a newspaper to shed the broad day light on the transience of any good thing.
What's good today, is a bygone tomorrow.
Time is of the essence...
of a hard, cruel, spinning world.

Socrates surfaced on my thoughts, beware of the barrenness of a busy life.

Thank you for Your overcoming life,
let me not miss You in the details.

Crestfallen

"Adventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine."
- J.R.R Tolkien

Ebbs and flow...

by isabelle

"Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them."
- Henry D. Thoreau

Sometimes, niceness makes my insides churn.
The type that is anxious to please,
strives to be accepted,
and compromises for an illusion.

Who are the biggest losers?
overweights shedding pounds in record time?
or the ones that thought they had it all,
but time unveiled them as having nothing at all?

Be the anchor of my soul,
Thy love is my song.

Confetti

"It rustles, like a taffeta skirt along the floor.”
- Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace

Balancing a drenched newspaper on my head,
feet bare and shoes warmly clenched,
I walked with Shalini across the ankle deep puddle.

Failing to catch a cab, we embraced an hour walk to the nearest train station.
"I'm all wet, I'm tired, all I want to do is just go home! Yet I still have a work assignment hotel dinner to attend down at the city. " A sigh escaped me as I said this.
It was 7pm, she was headed home, and I anywhere but.

Engrossed in Iris Murdoch's The Good And The Nice, I missed my stop.
The darken night sky greeted me to a foreign place, but I still had to go on.

The lovely on-the-house meals and lively new personalities almost recompense for the insane working hours.
Almost.

*

Reaching beyond my grasp,
I set Thy face continually before me.

Harmonia

image by martin gommel

Harmony: an interweaving of different accounts into a single narrative.
- Webster's Dictionary.

Small random quilt patterns making up a whole,
a pool of leaves making up a tree,
a mountain of droplets making up an ocean,
hardly noticeable, little moments...
making up one life time.
one. just one.

transformation rather than pious information,
to be bore in a life far greater than my own.
for now,
forever more.

My cup runneth over.