Sleeping Wounds
"It happens just because we need to want, and to be wanted too...when love is here or gone to lie down in the darkness and... listen to the warm.” -Rod McKuen
Crispiness of the morning breeze,
woke up slumbering leaves on trees and I walked beside my loneliness to get some peace and serenity.
As sun brightened and day was ripe,
slowly my pretence got peeled away and I became aware of my sleeping wounds buried in my heart's secret chamber.
Wounds are those withered leaves,
wailing on ground, around the trees, some are embraced by the wind, while others stay long, to be a fossil.
Though I had stopped visiting my past,
but time didn't heal all my wounds, with some it made no difference, the amount of time that had gone by.
The letters that you wrote I saved,
sometimes I read, and feel the warmth of your love and I don't know why I still think of you and forgiveness.
May 5, 2016.
Listen To The Warm-Prose - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
Copyright © Meenakshi Raina | Year Posted 2016
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