Photos are a way to freeze a moment...
So anyone can see what was going on...
People can even make a video...
But nothing replaces a happy memory...
No matter how many photos you take...
Or how many videos are made...
Nothing replaces a happy memory...
Photos may fade...
Videos may get deleted, or forgotten...
A happy memory will last for an eternity...
Let the camera of your soul treasure all your happy memories...
Those are the photos to keep in the album of your heart...

It is a clear, windy night...
My window is ajar...
The candle is barely lit...
The strong wind is threatening its very existence...
But I can't close the window...
For I want to send my sonnets...
They keep bouncing back...
As if the window was the net of an infinite tennis court...
And my sonnets and verses the ball that carries a message...
I am not giving up...
The stronger the wind, the more verses I write...
A strong wind is no match for the heart of a poet...
My pen will keep defying the elements...
If your eyes are about to close...
And you suddenly hear  the words "good night" whispered in your ear...
It means I was able to defeat the wind...
That was the match point...

What is the point of loving someone...
When you are being completely ignored?...
Why do I keep thinking of you?...
Where did I lose my north?....
Who am I? I don't recognize myself anymore...
Which path do I take now?...
Who are you?? I thought I knew you...
Whom stole my heart??

The wind blows softly by your window this morning...
The sun rays fall on your closed eyes...
The birds chirp and chirp until you finally wake up...
It is nature saying good morning to you...
A new day... a new week...
The whole planet is singing for you...
Happy Monday... happy week...

To say I adore you...
Would be an understatement...
To say I love you...
Would be to put it mildly...
To say you love me...
It would be a lie...
And to say I will someday forget you...
An even bigger lie...
I'll stop lying to myself...
I will never forget you...
I will never stop loving you...
What is the point of lying to myself?...
I will never be able to love another woman...
And that is the truth...

There was a time where I would wake up thinking of you...
Counting the seconds until I would see you again...
I would breath thinking of you..
And would close my eyes at night hoping to dream of you...
I would melt just seeing your eyes...
And got transported to wonderland every time you kissed me...
That is how much I loved you...
I now still wake up thinking of you...
Not because I love you anymore...
But because I want you to be happy...
And because I want to wish you a good day...
Wherever you are...
Only time will tell if I ever fall in love again...
And I honestly can't tell if you ever loved me...
But thanks to you I learned how to love...
And for that I want to say thank you...

The candle is lit...
And my eyes are closed...
The room is almost silent...
For the music is not playing anymore...
And the only noise is the candle chirping...
My mind is in a state of relaxation and emptiness...
As blank and empty as the paper where I want to write a poem...
My hand is holding a pen, which was given to me as a gift...
As if waiting for ideas...
But nothing comes to mind...
The pen must be really eager to let its ink spread on that paper...
For its now moving by itself...
In a rhythmical way...
As if following a symphony from the sky...
My hand only role is to just follow the pen...
This time is not the hand that commands the pen...
It is the pen that commands the hand...
I am in awe...
And don't venture to open my eyes yet...
Until the hand and the pen stop moving...
I need a few seconds...
For the curiosity and excitement are getting the best of me...
And I want to savor the moment...
I finally opened my eyes...
To see these words plastered on the paper...

"I am a magical pen...
I come from a magical and mystical land...
Where poetry is heard when it rains...
And where sonnets flow through the night...
I can create poetry...
All you have to do is hold me over a piece of paper...
And I will do the rest...
My ink will never dry...
The same way the verses on your heart and soul will never end"...

I can't think of a better gift that this magical pen...
I'm starting to believe the woman who gifted me the pen is also magical...
And perhaps comes from the same land as the pen...