And we say goodbye, life's so not fair.
But darling, when you need me, I'll always be there.
Our path are different, our destinations so far,
but 'tis surely been a walk to remember.

©Aastha

children's poem*
There lived a little child, in the paradise,
Where the sun never set and the sun would never rise.

One day came a storm and took the child away,
Through the garden and the breeze. It took her far away.

She was now all alone and wandering through the snow.
The child was lost that day but nobody did know.

She set for the search of her home through the wind and the sun.
Then came a heavy rain, she didn't find a place to run.

She didn't eat and sleep, she walked from day till night.
She always kept her eyes open, till her eyes were frozen wide.

She walked through spring and the summer, then came the winter along.
The autumn gave golden fruits to all, but she could never find her home.

The little child was lost, around the world she roamed.
She was never again happy, for she could never find her home.

©Aastha

I am lost on nights like these
When a sudden rush collides within me
A hushed whisper at the back of my mind
That causes a ripple more forceful than time
A simple reminder of a simpler fact
That this world is nothing and I am of that
And if I can be of something whose worth has no prize
Then where do I stand on this list of grand size?

These nights leave me breathless- as I sink deeper away
Yet visually moving much further astray
My body may sink but my soul rises high
As I see through the view of a little bird’s eye

From the heights we are merely, a speck of dust
Incapable of emotions, no hatred, no lust
And if only distance can cause this view
It must be time for this world to work for something new

No longer to crave to be the greatest being
But to aim past the dreadful sense: seeing
No longer to care for physical things to hold
But to desire to leave your own touch, your own mold
To know that this is not a piece of clay
But an action, a thought, a word that you say
That may change a life and ripple to more
Each leaving a mark or opening a door
That allows more to enter without having to knock
We are now moving mountains, not pebbles, not rocks

If we all work together for a greater one
Then maybe, just maybe, this world will not be done.