I am grateful I understand with utmost affection
how between a parent and child
there is a loving…never-ending connection….
How we never stop being a child to our parents
no matter how old we are…
no matter where we go…
and how we never stop being a parent to our children
no matter where they go
no matter how old they grow.
In the realm of love, where hearts entwine,
You and I, my love, reign supreme, divine.
Like Roshani and Siddharth, our love will shine,
A bond so strong, a love that's truly sublime.
We're the King and Queen of Hearts, a love so true,
Our hearts beating as one, our love forever new.
Like Romeo and Juliet, our love will stand the test,
A flame that burns so bright, a love that's forever best.
Our love is the stuff of legend, a tale so fine,
A love that's known by all, a love that's truly divine.
Like Orpheus and Eurydice, our love will conquer all,
A love that's strong, a love that will forever enthrall.
In your eyes, my love, I see a love so true,
A love that shines like gold, a love that's forever new.
With every breath, I'll love you till the end of time,
Forever and always, my love, my heart, my rhyme.
Our love is a symphony, a harmony so sweet,
A love that's played on the strings of our hearts, a love that can't be beat.
Like Shah Jahan and Mumtaz, our love will be eternal,
A love that's carved in history, a love that's truly celestial.
Allow yourself to go
beyond numbing disappointment
and put words to how you feel
Stop brushing everything aside like nothing matters
Bring your emotions out in daylight
Don’t hide and gloss them over ~ analyze them
Do away with self censorship
Dig deeper ~ know you’re entitled
to feelings and to express them
No longer silence the inner child
who gets offended and wants to cry
Be its champion ~ let it speak up and be heard
Feelings are what allows you to
explore the why of who you are
Expressing feelings is what helps
connect with others through understanding
their eyes meet for a
moment—grief flickers softly
then drifts into streets
Here I am.
Everywhere we were.
Empty as is.
Capillaries fill with her,
like rotting roots under trees.
More than I deserve.
I’ve found your silence beneath
feeding truths in buried leaves.
To preserve,
to please.
’Til you return,
I plead.
Words are just a wrapper—
Truth lives in the ache,
Not in the noise we speak,
But in what starts to break.
We often make remarks,
Wearing their grief like borrowed skin,
But fail to touch the fire,
That burns beneath within.
"I feel alone," we think we hear—
"I'm fearful. I'm not okay."
We answer, "I'm sorry,"
Then turn and walk away.
But somewhere in the underneath,
Where real things tend to hide,
If you'd just listen—really listen—
You'd hear the breaking inside.
Always armed with “I’ve been there,”
As if that makes it right—
"You feel alone? What do you mean?
I texted you last night."
Not every wound is waiting
To be matched with one of yours.
Sometimes the kindest thing to do
Is keep your own behind closed doors.
Their voice is not a trigger
For your pain to take the stage.
It’s not a prompt—it’s not a test—
It’s someone else’s cage.
No “me too,” no “here’s my version,”
No jumping in to fix—
Just stillness in the sacred space
Where truth and silence mix.
It’s not your turn when someone breaks—
Their pain is not your cue.
Hold your story. Shut your mouth.
This moment’s not about you.
Those we love don't go away
They walk beside us every day.
They walk with us, in happiness and sorrow,
As our guardian angels in the darkness of night,
Inspired us yesterday, will motivate tomorrow.
So we are fearless when struggles are in sight.
My angels tiptoe gently in dreams when I close my tired eyes,
The mysterious glint in their smiles fills me with sweet surprise!
"How can they be gone" I tell myself, when appears the image of
My wise grandpa scanning newspapers with glasses on his nose,
Watch my grandma quilting a blanket with meticulous details,
Passion for art transforms in compassion for needy, I suppose.
My visionary father with his garden tools, my knight in armour,
Mother, icon of grace, intent on playing music on a sitar!
Siblings and cousins, friends and neighbours, no longer with us,
Their cheerful faces, magical company, beckon from near and far.
Those we love are bound to us
A bond that is never lost,
An invisible connection,
Deep in our soul that's embossed.
The gales of November sit still on my mind
while I stand to remember the Maritime blues
Twenty-nine souls cradled by the sea
perished as the gales of November blew free
"We're holding our own just like an old shoe "
transmissions and messages lost in debris !
Superior storms blew hard and unfettered
as the gales of November amok, ran the sea
Twenty-nine souls gone astray with the wind
and the mountains and lakes still echo for thee
Its a "Lightfoot" connection that sings of your plea
as the winds of November blow wild and blow free !
In the unspoken stanzas of glance,
A language of love is skillfully enhanced.
Flushed cheeks , shy eyes ,
Glimmering like starry night skies.
The melody of footsteps, a syncronized pace,
A duet of devotion in every gaze.
Fingers touch, cheeks glow red,
Whispered secrets in the heart's closest thread.
The eyes deep dialect, a secret code,
Conveys the heart's deepest abode.
The soft curves of a comforting embrace,
A harbor of solace, calm and safe.
In the gentle tilt of head , a sweet surprise,
In the curve of neck , an invitation lies.
Eyes unite, love's passion burns bright,
Smile glows warm, heart feels just right.
With eyes that lock and hearts that beat,
Our actions whisper secrets sweet.
In every gesture, love is key,
A language universal, for you and me.
~Muskaan
Still connected to the world, and yet everything feels so distant.
Still connected to the world, and yet everything feels so different.
Would you hold onto them if you can’t hear them saying the cheers?
Would you hold onto me if leaves can’t even hold onto the trees?
Would I be here for you if I’m not even here for myself?
Would I forgive you if I don’t forgive myself?
Still connected to the world, and yet connection isn’t what I feel.
Still connected to the world, and yet connection is what I fear.
She wasn’t just beautiful—
she was the pause between two heartbeats,
the way the moonlight lands softly
on a world too harsh for light.
Her eyes held galaxies,
but not the loud, burning kind—
the quiet ones,
where stars learn to listen
before they shine.
Her smile wasn’t just a curve—
it was a promise,
a soft unraveling of every storm
I’d ever carried.
She spoke in silences
that only I understood.
The way a flame knows
when to flicker
and when to hold.
And I—
I loved her in all the ways
the world forgets to love.
Not for how she looked
but for how she stayed
when the sky changed colors.
For how she made sadness
seem like something worth surviving
just to hear her laugh again.
If beauty was a place,
she was home.
And if love had a face—
I saw it every time
she looked at me.
True love is a connection
a recognition of each other's soul
a respect that only grows
True love is when exposing vulnerability
is not a sign of weakness
but an act of total trust
True love knows no borders
it can even survive death
because love is stronger than grief
AP: 2nd place 2025, Honorable Mention 2025
A smile and a kind word go a long way
for opening doors and opportunities
to worlds we might love to discover.
With age, it becomes increasingly
apparent that these soul connections
are the attractions that we crave.
AP: 3rd place 2025
Dedicated to Mooney who is up in cat heaven ~
norwegian fur ball
intelligent and cunning
feline soul sister
AP: 1st place 2025
"To Walk Beside You"
I met you in the silence
Between laughter and retreat,
Where fire met still water
And wild hearts dared to meet.
You saw the storm inside me
And called it too much flame,
But it’s the heat that forged my spirit,
Not a thing I’ll ever tame.
You asked for open softness,
For a love that wraps and mends,
But love is not a binding rope,
It’s where the breaking ends.
I’ll walk with you through sorrow,
I’ll hold your trembling hand,
But I won’t step out of myself
To help you understand.
You crave a safer rhythm,
A song with gentler sound,
But mine is sung in thunder,
Still sacred, still profound.
So heal, love, and I’ll witness,
I’ll be there, brave and true,
But I can only love you fully
If I’m allowed to be me too.
Not to fix, not to follow,
Not to shrink or bend or hide,
But to meet you in the middle,
Whole, unmasked, and side by side.
Lev
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