Thursday 29 June 2017

You

Do you know what I dream of?
I dream of watching your face,
In the wee hours of morning,
Your sweet beautiful face

I dream of your eyes,
How they flutter open,
Those soft dove browns,
I drown in their depths

I dream of your hair,
Wisps of them falling on your forehead,
I sweep them off your eyes,
They have entangled my heart

I dream of your illuminated skin,
Sun's rays streaming from the window,
Hitting your skin,
Our bodies sparkle in unison

I dream of your lips,
Slightly apart whispering sweet nothings,
I lean forward,
I kiss them

I dream of such days and nights,
Your face like the sun,
It sets and rise,
I dream of you,
And me,
And our entire lives.

Monday 26 June 2017

The Whistler by Mary Oliver

“You can never know anyone as completely as you want. But that’s okay, love is better.” -Caroline Paul


When in love, we all ache to know everything about our object of affection, we wish to drown in their deepest sorrows and bask in their sunshiny smiles. Yet it is not possible to completely know the nearest and dearest to us. This poem by Mary Oliver is about the realization that how after three decades of living together, she still didn't know the love of her life completely. 

The Whistler

All of a sudden she began to whistle. By all of a sudden
I mean that for more than thirty years she had not
whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was
in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and
she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and
cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds war-
bled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.

Finally I said, Is that you? Is that you whistling? Yes, she
said. I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can
still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled
through the house, whistling.

I know her so well, I think. I thought. Elbow and ankle.
Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too
And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin
to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with
for thirty years?

This clear, dark, lovely whistler?



Source- brainpickings.com

To Anna, from Sharvi

I've never had true friends. I don't know what friendship means. There is a friendship I see in the movies - a concept that seems ...