by Gauri Trivedi
I reach out for you only in despair, like one longs for a missing soul mate’s hand.
I blurt all out, empty my mind and what comes out may seem poetic at times.
Like a shadow that never leaves a body’s side, the yearning to write is anchored deep inside.
Just as one would, with a childhood friend, I take you for granted often now and then.
Traveling a distance, disappearing in time, but never really going anywhere.
A tug is all you need to pull me back in your range and though it appears to be a mutual hunger,
I know I need you more.
Occasionally now a friend would ask, why haven’t you been writing off late?
For the seldom reader who is merely curious, there isn’t an answer plausible to give.
Inadequate to state that the words lie buried somewhere,
Just takes a catalyst for them to manifest.
Seeing happy faces around, brightens any day, makes me feel blessed for all that I have.
Like bright sunshine spreading its light, lifting gloomy spirits everywhere in sight.
Joy gives the optimism needed to survive, only it does nothing for me to ponder and write.
A tear, an ache, a regret that stays, visible or not is all that it takes.
It isn’t always about me, the pain and protest;
The injustice of things that can’t be made right,
A few who see things that way will surely have to agree,
Anguish not necessarily your own, is a muse, to those who can feel.
Sometimes I write to cover a lie but most days it is to glorify the truth.
The words flow out giving anger a vent, the un-shareable burdens however, never find an outlet.
On days like these I am cautious what I pen, worried that facts will slide into the unfilled gaps.
Antithetical as it may sound, words are overrated, and silence speaks much more.
The delinquency of quiet however is that it is open to decipher.
Verses twisted and turned, intended to deliver a punch: still less cruel than silence deliberated to hurt.
Occasionally, therefore I refuse to write merely to convey my indifference.
Gifted mortals can spin a tale, dream up a fantasy lying awake.
My mind however, declines to collaborate.
Days pass by without a story to share.
The writings inscribed, all come out of my heart, when happy and content, it is reluctant to share.
Absence does not mean it ceases to exist. The desire to write is always within.
The question perhaps is what not to write.
For rewards or accolades or momentary fame, how much of your soul are you willing to bare.
It takes courage to dig deeper in the self and I hesitate to concede that which can be revealed.
To write or not to write isn’t always a matter of choice,
Months sometimes go by without as much as a syllable and suddenly,
Words come out faster than I can possibly write them down.
Only makes me wonder if they were always hanging around,
Waiting for an inspiration to help me pull them out.
Gauri Trivedi is a hobbyist writer who takes her reading pretty seriously! A corporate lawyer in another world, she wears the tag of a SAHM proudly these days. Writing is where she finds peace when everything around is chaotic to say the least. Visit her blog http://messyhomelovelykids.blogspot.com to read more.
Pic : https://www.flickr.com/photos/jpaxonreyes/
