The rain says so many forbidden words
synchronising with every bit of fear
that she is unable to express
The infrequent sound falls on
a shaky ground built on anxious thoughts
trying to keep up with the rhythm
like catching reality in a chaotic mind
She wonders why the winter rain feels so dry
This weekend has been planned out to be a busy one with cooking, travelling and loads people contact. However with some magic shuffle, I ended up with a window of quiet evening. I attempted to finish reading a book I was half way through but couldn’t pick it up. Then I attempted to write a poem or two and felt uninspired. The next thing was watching a movie on Netflix but nothing looked interesting. There was a sense of unsettling for me. I felt I needed to sit with my feelings to untangle them. So I sat and played music softly in the background.
I am always grateful for what music gives me when I am exhausted with giving or run out of inspiration. Besides the nature, music is my second go to place for quiet time. I feel that through music, I am able to relate my own feelings to the artist. It is more like the artist reaches me through their music and lyrics. They help me identify my own feelings and emotions. Then what was trapped in my head has an outlet to express. For me, it is usually through writing.
Sitting with my own feelings is never an easy thing to do. With music though, I feel I have a guide and I am never alone.
In rainy March I long for a philosophical whisper over tea The smell of possibility permeating Your gaze an infusion of heaven Barely we know where we are Yet we know where we’re going With some echo of curiosity On a bed of uncertainty I inhale your essence Drink in your presence Only we temper the inner warmth Steeped in each other Rain is threading through each whisper Tea left unrequited and cold In the company of drizzling rain