Skip to main content

My poem in the woods

Do you like the woods? I do too.
Do you like getting lost inside the woods? I do too.




I went out barefoot near sunrise towards the forest right outside my house. As kids, we'd come here for summers with our grandparents and spend endless lazy afternoons by the lake soaking in sunshine. I turned around to take a quick look at the house. To reassure me that I had a home to come back to, what I must start looking for if I got lost. 




The house was as old as time. Big windows peeping out of the moss that covered the thick stone walls leaving patches only for bougainvillea that teased the green once in a while. The glass was a little hazy, so you know even sunlight that came through was very very golden. It was all really magical somehow. I'd tell you more about what it looked like inside the house but that's not important right now. 

So I had this airy white shirt on and I wore my perfume. I just walked towards the woods. It might sound scary but all my childhood summers I had spent picking out fruits in this tiny forest of mine, so this place could never scare me. I came here to clear my head, to find my answers. I came here whenever I wanted to lose my questions. So I walked a few minutes randomly changing course between trees. It's important you know why I came here barefoot. I wanted to feel the leaves. You see, it's fall now and the leaves feel really good against my feet. It makes me feel really grounded. 





I came here today to write a poem to myself. I wanted to confess to myself my truth and I wanted to do it with poetry. I wanted to immortalize the soul I have helplessly and hopelessly fallen in love with. Now, do not mind me if I start addressing him. In my conversation, in my poems, in my books, in the little notes I leave on the kitchen counter, in my dreams, or in my heart.


More often than not, I wonder, does he think of me as much as I think of him? But does he also feel the need to write poems sitting alone or listen to music beneath the stars to not be driven crazy by my thought? Perhaps it is only I who feels this way, then answer me this; where do I beg for mercy? Whose door do I knock on to seek fairness? If I alone feel this way it's only sweet nothings.

So I found myself this rock and I sat down holding on to some leaves. I took in the sweet air as the first ray of sunshine hit the top of the tress, it started to get golden. I listened to the soft rustle of the leaves. The music of the wind touching the water covered all other sounds like a big warm hug. 

But do you think of me as much as I think of you? Do you too, spend sunrise to sunset chasing away my memories. Do you even know slightly how this rends me? 

All this time I had been writing with this deranged yearning not knowing I had been writing about you. In all my poems and proses it always sounded like I had this maddening longing for someone, for someone like you. All this while asking myself why I was, how I was? Because I was being sculpted for someone like you. I automatically start feeling responsible for you. Bending rules does not seem as much of sin with you. You make me feel like I want to give you the world and I am ready to win it for you. Like I was always supposed to take care of you. Odd. If I could have you peek inside my mind, you’d see a lot more of you than you’d see of me.




It felt like everything around me was a little happier in anticipation of my poem. I smiled to myself utterly amused by the narcissism. And then in what sounded like a whisper, I said..


Galaxies and whiskey bottles to drink
good things may be slow but baby these things happen in a blink
Come along I have some secrets to share
run away with me, run away with me and I'll see you there


I'll hold you close listening to everything you've got to say
we could fight sometimes, sometimes we could play
Finish each other's lines, steal glances here and there
I will get you all the stars and oceans, just stay right here


Sitting here for an eternity trying to put all my prayers in one
I looked for your hand when it was all said and done
Mulled over it plenty and I played your game 
 But when I looked up at the sky to ask for everything, 
I only called out your name




And there was a hushing wind. Then everything went quiet. 

_____________________



Until next time
Love, always
S








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Miles of space to play with

People like to believe the universe is some grand orchestrator, shuffling fate cards like a moody blackjack dealer. But sometimes, it just sits back with popcorn and watches two people fumble their way into a slow-burning disaster that smells vaguely of espresso and unresolved tension. Enter Nat and Miles, two souls with more chemistry than a freshman lab fire, and just about as much common sense. By now, I assume you know Miles a bit. So allow me to introduce Nat. Nat. Now there’s a piece of work the universe clearly cooked up on a cheeky day. All sharp wit, unreadable playlists, and the kind of elegance that doesn’t try, it just is. She walks into a room like she already knows the ending but still watches everyone else catch up. She’ll dissect a business pitch, write a blog that punches through your chest, and still look vaguely annoyed that you haven’t figured out how she takes her coffee (strong, like her opinions, with a splash of skimmed milk and quiet judgment). But don’t be foo...
Post a Comment
Read more

When the stars gazed back at us.

  When the stars gazed back at us,  it was not about beginnings; it was about recognition. About that rare, almost fleeting moment when the universe did not feel distant or indifferent, but attentive, almost complicit. ;) I woke up remembering you, All your words, old and new. Of dreams I hold of lands unseen, As if your name’s the hum I’ve known, your face the only thing I’ve seen. Even the sun bears your name,  Without you, rain feels strangely tame. They may call me mad, broken, or even wrongly built, I’d still reduce to dust all that may keep us apart, without remorse or even a speck of guilt. You and me, we took an oath, To be each other’s home through misery and gloat. If I were to do it all over again, I would, of course, I would, Wouldn't change a thing even if I could. I’ve held you through your sin, you’ve seen me through my crime Miles and miles I’ve carried all your shadows; you have borne witness to mine.  Across all lives, though you forg...
Post a Comment
Read more

Notes from the Aphelion

There’s a story I’ve been carrying inside me for a while. Not a plot line or a pitch, but something else, something that feels like memory but also like myth. And it’s not about love, not the kind we usually talk about. It’s about Time . Yes, Time . That ever-present, slightly dramatic character that haunts everyone’s calendars, under-eyes, and birthday cake candles. Except in this story, Time isn’t a villain. It’s.. well. It’s something closer to God. And this girl I’m going to be telling you about, let’s just say she wasn’t born for chasing trends or hurrying through moments. She was more of a dusty piano in a world obsessed with bluetooth speakers. A little out of place, a little out of sync, but stubbornly intact. This story isn’t a love story in the classic sense. There are no stolen glances or sweeping gestures. But it’s still about love - the strange, slow kind. The sort that grows without asking. The sort that isn’t always easy to see, until one day, you realise it’s be...
Post a Comment
Read more