Articles

A Letter to Desire

Hey all,

I hope everyone is safe and sound during these uncertain times.
It is with great pleasure that I share with you my article titled “A Letter to Desire,” which was published on June 20th, in the newly revamped Lightbox Originals Newsletter!

https://lightboxoriginals.com/letter-to-desire/

I must say that it is great to be part of such an inspiring, beautiful newsletter. Take a look, as they have great articles and news to share with all and sundry.

In the meantime, stay safe. Let’s work together to get Covid19 out of the way.

Love,
Shobana

Poetry

It Is Now A Tomorrow’s World!

the summer day

How would you envisage life in a year or so?

One of awakened senses?

Perhaps with the dawn of light,

An enlightening of the soul.

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The rays of the Sun trickle through tall, sturdy trees,

Trees that have survived time,

They have grown tall and shade the streets,

Calm streets, untread by hurried feet,

Applaud their heritage.

.

There is no air that chokes the greenest of its leaves.

I have seen the dust settle on some of those leaves,

A long time ago, when Man wasn’t as conscious of his inaction to preserve nature,

It did choke the tiny birds and insects that feed on the leaves,

Some left bereft of its essence.

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Now, I take quiet footsteps,

The stilling silence, nature’s inheritance,

I breathe the most freshest of air,

The smog has cleared, the calm has settled.

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All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

Poetry

Be The Sunrise In Someone’s Life

(taken from my gift collection)
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I know how sometimes she seeks out the Sunrise,

It does show itself to the world every morning, and then disappears when it has lighted up the whole world.

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Once, a long time ago,

She sat watching the silent tide wash ashore.

Every time it rushed towards the waiting sands, it brought forth pretty bubbles,

To decorate the hems of those sands.
.

She waited for Sunrise,

It did rise to rake in her tide,

Her tide of happiness,

Amidst the chaos of the ravages on her mind, body and soul.

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She walks away into the mist,

Maybe waking God or even an angel in her midst,”Why is the Sunrise not in my heart? For my weary soul is heavy with assault!”

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The Sunrise remains as her salvation,

The colors are loaned to color her world,

She waits to be free like the tides of the sea.

She walks away, with hope resurrected.


All Rights Reserved. Copyright@shobana2019