
To begin, begin.
William Wordsworth
There’s this sense of a beginning
as the day is breaking,
with lambent rays and homely feels,
on the skin, as my mind heals.
Ran, oh ran, and ran, I back then,
For the lost soul is back home once again.
There’s this sense of a genesis,
‘Just, just for you!’ says my heart
You well-earned this.
I’m being myself and…
‘she is teeming with herself’,
let the world tell themselves.
There’s this sense of being on my own side,
Their insolent tones and
Their broken brazen assurances
I’ve left them all behind.
Let them be,
no time to hide,
No time to die.
There’s this sense of whom I’m becoming,
Not falling apart, is what I’ve been promising.
I love myself for my sanity,
It’s the first time, my soul and brain are at unity.
There’s this sense of celebrating,
MYSELF- a unique essence of jubilation.
I peered at the mirror, it was just I,
just I? I am the change! I won’t lie.
There’s this sense of everything,
There’s this sense of welcoming,
There’s this sense of accepting,
there’s this sense of a beginning.
Ananya Shanker©2020
(All rights reserved)
(First published in Amour Propre(Quillopia’s fourth edition))
Thank you for staying! I know I have been inactive but thank you. Hope you all are doing well. Take care. All my love! ❤️
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Reblogged this on Ritwik's Blog.
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Wow! Beautifully Written!
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