Waiting for the rest of the blooms.
A very simple photograph, evoking simple emotions. The Moon appearing like a pearl in the ocean, a jewel on a fabric, a bulb in the fog, guiding light in a storm, like a father, a bindi on the forehead of the woman, whose face can dispense thousands of worries in fraction of a second, mother’s.
Sparkling Moon on the forehead of sky,
dispensing cloudy frowns of worries,
just like a mother’s face would.
Lone ranger offering shoulder to cry,
to billions of stars, dispensing pain of distance,
like a friend’s shoulder would.
Shining jewel on the blue fabric of trust,
mending, hiding holes of mistakes,
like a sibling’s trust would.
Glowing in the distance, like a lamp in the storm,
dispersing darkness even before it comes,
like a teacher’s glow would.
Showing the way, easing the path,
lighting up the road, for future ahead,
like a father’s guidance would.
Caressing gently, empowering with the Sun’s reflection,
embracing, as one is,
like a lover’s love would.
Words strung together like exquisite pearls,
Like a beautiful lucky charm for any girl.
Uncomplicated like a string of diamonds,
Simple, sparkling, splendid and uncommon.
Littered around like thousands of shells on a beach,
Hand picked separately, phrased together for each.
Spilling out from a pen, what heart wants to read,
like the very breath that all living so desperately need.
Words weave magic, sometimes the truth, sometimes a web of lies.
For words are words, it is actions with which a person is defined.