Morning rain and mist
Red Cardinal sings among
Forsythia buds

Medley of patterns
Flow onto the paper
Sorting through the mess
That is my head

Colors dance on the sheet
Never skipping a beat
Both Performing for me
And speaking for me

Feelings reborn in hues
Color and colourless
Let them flow
Together let’s grow

Yesterday is a ghost —
a fading breath we cannot hold.
“Forget it,” they say,
“It already buried itself in silence.”

Tomorrow is mist —
A shape beyond the horizon.
“Don’t wait for it,” they warn,
“It may never come the way you dreamed.”

But today...
Today stands with open hands.
So we rise,
we walk,
we carry what we can


The future remains unwritten —
a blank sky
aching for stars we haven’t named.
Still, we press ink into it
with trembling hearts.

The future is still a mystery,
But it is ours to shape.
To mold with the trembling strength of now.


After joy that made us sing,
After nights of silence,
After loss that hollowed our ribs,
After missed chances, closed doors, misfortunes endured and roads that turned away —
A voice, quiet and golden,
still finds us.

It tells us gently:

Whatever comes,
whatever breaks,
whatever blesses —
It is ours.
It is all fortune.

--- Quinn ✍️✨

You never wrote back, but I read every line—

In letters I dreamed up and signed in your sign.

They came in the wind or the drip of the sink,

In shadows that pause just a moment to think.

I fed on illusions, I watered my pain,

I swore that your absence would soon explain.

But days turn to years, and still I believe,

That ghosts only vanish when we stop to grieve.


---nyn

The most misunderstood, misfelt, and underrated feeling.
Water flowing from eyes can never be fake.
It could be from happiness,
Can be with grief,
Can be out of jealous,
And can be through overwhelm.

The reason may be anything,
But they can never be fake.
They hold valuable expressions
Which words in dictionary too fail.

They carry the pain,
Unexpressed emotions,
And more.

Tears are misunderstood
For being weak, sensitive, and over-emotional.
But they are not in true sense.
One can never judge the value of tears.

They make heavy hearts lighter.
Hidden suffers heal.
They make expressions visible.
Make the situation intact.

Never look low of tears,
And the one who lets them flow freely,
Than to submerged them fearing judgements.