I wrote these lines for the one-line prompt – The birds on my grave. Writing this made me sad. A writer commented that it is “hauntingly beautiful.” I agree that there is a lingering ache in this poem that makes it beautiful. These lines are about all the things we leave behind when it’s time to be one with the earth and the skies! It’s the epitaph of the poet, the writer, and the silent warrior.
The birds on my grave Are possessed by the poems I never wrote down And the myriad stories Now buried with me; The wildflowers flourishing On my weathered tombstone Carry the aroma of moments Now lying in an ornate box Tucked in with crocheted love You can sense my presence In the dance of butterflies; The dragonflies sweep in To touch my humble soul That wonders what happened To all the words, I left unsaid!
Many readers may know the symbolism of the dragonfly. It means looking within and indicates the light of a divine entity. To a warrior and fighter, a dragonfly represents agility, power, speed, victory, and courage. It also symbolizes rebirth, immortality, transformation, adaptation, and spiritual awakening.
So, in the end, the poem brings hope when the soul is touched by nature and in commune with the dragonflies.
I am just ME … a soul streaming across constellations, over eons of turbulent changes and tranquil noises, perturbed by the visions that engulf me and ruffled by the oft complacence that challenges the change. Yet, I must travel further across the galaxies, in search of the ultimate metamorphosis. Until then, I sojourn in this life, engrossed in my earthly callings of a wife, mother, professional, writer, dreamer, and seeker.
On this blog you will find a spectrum of fiction, poetry, reviews, thoughts, snippets, inspiration, experiences, voices, concerns, excerpts, and everything that the soul has gathered in her fold, over years of reading, searching, finding, losing, and discovering. I regularly indulge in various creative pursuits, like crochet, experimental cooking, reading, and writing, and I hold a managerial/editorial role in a financial services organization with a global footprint.
For a long time, social media hijacked my personal writing space, as I was sharing more on Facebook and writing Tweet-sized poetry on Twitter. Social media is instant but temporary gratification. Ultimately, a writer needs their own space, and personal blogging provides that space. I had started a blog more than a decade ago but all things need to be infused with new life, emerge in a new avatar, and so it is with my new blog space.
Let your love and encouragement pour into Blue Pen Strokes.
Check out Aneesha Shewani (@felinemusings)
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