I once penned poetry tantamount to arias and flowed like symphonies. The emotions were palpable, sometimes almost overwhelmingly so; even my prose was prolific and profound. No matter what I wrote, there was always an abundance. If I felt sad, the beauty of a delicate teardrop could not eclipse the outpouring of the cavalcade of sighing sorrows. Happiness never was solely that. Joy seeped and soaked into every stanza as if I had drizzled my tongue with honey while the harvest bees droned smartly from vivid metaphor on through thick and throaty alliteration, punctuated by bouts of often sexy sliding … Continue reading The Ebb and Flow of Words

Love consumed my peace and my war. It devoured my day and night, my winter and my summer. It swallowed my silence, my headache, and even my fear of death. Love became an insatiable force, leaving nothing untouched, nothing unclaimed. It was both my torment and my solace, my chaos and my calm. In its wake, I found myself stripped bare, yet strangely whole, as if love had not just taken, but also given me a new essence, a new existence. As I wandered through the remnants of my former self, I discovered that love had not merely consumed, but … Continue reading Love’s Consuming Embrace

I look out the window with an affectionate gaze, contemplating the legitimate resource of love. I surrender, believing in this total commitment that brings benefits and satisfies my sentimental cravings. Love is worth any cloudy Monday, disastrous Tuesday, wordless Wednesday, rose-less Thursday, dreadful Friday. And on Saturday, we end up meeting at the corner bar to have a few drinks and catch up on all the stories that make love worthwhile. Love is worth even what’s not in the contract. It’s worth the effort of an undeserved hug, the tear of contentment, the slips of pure joy. The red, embarrassed … Continue reading What a wonderful thing called Love!

They wanted my eyes, but they wanted me to turn a blind eye; they craved the sparkle in my gaze, yet feared the truths I might see. They desired my lips, but not the thick tongue with political discussions slipping off of it; they longed for the shape of my smile, but not the weight of my words. They wanted my skinny fingers, delicate and nimble, but they did not want the words that fell out of my pen; they admired the grace of my hands, but not the power of my thoughts. They wanted my body, the vessel that … Continue reading My Being

Each morning, as the first light of dawn filters through my window, I stand before the mirror and gaze into my own eyes. I ask myself a question that has become a ritual, a compass guiding my days: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” This question, simple yet profound, holds the power to illuminate the path I tread. There are days when the answer is a resounding “Yes,” and I step forward with purpose and joy. But there are also days when the answer is … Continue reading Change

As I stand on this path, each step feels like a whisper from the earth, grounding me in the present. The war within me has quieted, replaced by a serene acceptance of the duality that defines my existence. My heart, once a battlefield, now beats in harmony with the rhythm of life around me. I find beauty in the smallest moments—a bird’s song at dawn, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the warmth of the sun on my skin. These simple pleasures, once overlooked, now fill me with a profound sense of gratitude. My eyes, once a sea … Continue reading Path