Heavy hearted though warm I feel
The skies are high, painted in teal
I am weak, a tyro with spirits at peak
Time has come to leave the nest
Steal the sights, fly high my best!
Flap the wings, may the mood swings
Light up-cheer up-be alive!
Wind may oppose ,its my first flight.
Face the thunders, don’t let it rain
Do hold the clouds till energy drains.
My wings are heavy, want a break
Perch of memories, I might fall prey
A moment to live, rest I don’t care
Now I am tired, and I am sane
Soon I will fly my home again.
P.S. How often do we go restless with a purpose to do something out of routine? How frequent do we experience the chasm between what we need to do and what we want to? No matter where we are, what we do , the stigma of incompleteness denies to leave our side.
We try , try hard to do it. To achieve that one thing, that keeps on haunting you with your eyes open to see the world but closed enough to disregard the fact of it being not so apt to make you feel complete, we tend to venture through boundaries in the dreamy pursuit of our purpose.
There is one or other thing which continues to test your audacity and challenges your persistence and leaves you to give an answer to ‘What for?’. A nostalgic memory drags you to look back for one more time with each step you take forward. The real provocation comes from within. What if my step could be more firm, what possibly the outcome would be.
©Written Frames, 2017