The Superpower of Words

The writing community always gives. From words and encouragement to gratitude and encouragement. This year I dedicated myself to reading self-published and Indie writers and reviewing books that made a difference.

As a Reedsy Disovery and Himalayan Book Club book reviewer, I discovered a whole new world. Previously, I also reviewed books for Juggernaut but it dwindled due to time constraints. Several writers have reached out to me through social media platforms with comments on my reviews. Some have chosen me to review their book, which gives me much joy.

I am glad to be one of these creative writers and it surely warms the cockles of my heart to receive personal notes from authors. A few have connected with me to talk about their writing inspirations and their next work. I was able to provide editorial guidance to a self-published writer who was seeking help with her young adult trilogy. It has been an exciting journey and I hope to keep the momentum in 2022 also. It is not only important to write but to support other writers, too.

Hatred

Do you wonder, find it strange
How this world loathes
When we could love more
As hatred spills everywhere
We stand still, stare in despair
None intervene, all stay aloof
“It’s not my battle, not my war”
Until it is knocking at our door!
For the thing with hatred is this
When ignored, it only spreads
Its claws are sharp, hunger wild
We may be silent but can’t hide.

Winter

What had happened was
Giggles over a picnic spread
Thick layers of marmalade
Stacks of thin crepes
Trickles of blueberry
Glasses of lemonade
Under the mulberry tree
Just dreams of summer
Stained with myriad colors
As in the winter sun I lay
Thinking of you and all
That you just left behind!

Sunday

On a Sunday morning
A summer-perfumed breeze
Rocks the hammock
A book cover gazes
Vacantly at azure skies
A fly lazily sits on the rim
Of an empty flute of nectar
Thoughts doze off embracing
An idyllic disregard
For chores and such
Until a mundane morrow

Dawn

In the fleeting darkness
Only dreams survive
On the chariot of dawn
That rises from the ashes
Of a horizon in cinders
Lost to the dying lights
Of lonely burning skies!
The dark broom of night
Sweeps away stardust
From under the canopy
Of a dazzling firmament
Slowly lost in the distance