a daylight dream

Sometimes I forget and get lost in the maze leading me up to endless skies. In between the doing, surrender is sweet, it is overwhelmingly relentless, often addictive, that one feels that something is wrong if a peek to the ground is forsaken. In those days, I forget what I’m here for. I forget the purpose of the strife. It all becomes quite confusing to understand— how did I get here? How was all this enabled into happening so swiftly? It’s where I’m at. I look at the long list of commitments surrender has carried me towards so gently. I am even sure that they could be kissed into existence with ease, but with humanness, I often panic at the brink of each evening wondering how it could happen. I then feel really afraid. I want to escape. I wonder, too, dear one, how I got myself surrendering my fears of togetherness. The shame that runs down the vines of my lifeline, all the fragile notions to be undone, all the big stones to be lifted in ease. Now that I look in hindsight, that was a...

November is one of those solemn times of the year, when the year ages and monotony settles in. The intentions sowed in autumn crystallise into a hidden knowing, its only requirement is to be habituated, which is always the most difficult part, especially for a soul that revels in the glory of new beginnings and diverging dreams. The trees have become barren and the sun does not shine as luxuriously as it did. It’s warm and subtle, but it smells different now. It’s this fragrance that makes me miss the exhilarated motions of spring. The passing of months have become truly ritualistic now. Every month teaches me something new, and perhaps I’ve learned shortly more about my attachments to this world. It’s easier to accept my mistakes and not being adept at most of my doings, but God, I find myself really clumsy in most processes that involve ordinariness. Once I’m acquainted by new dreams and imaginings, magical occurrences that touch the brink of unknowns— this is where I feel most grate...