[Poem revived] Consoling a Flower’s Dead Spirit.

9 months ago I wrote a poem. And for 9 months it stayed unread. Today I found it and read it like it was the work of a stranger. I am strange even to myself.


There weren’t countless of opportunities

but there were many

glittery, sparkly choices that tempt me

mine eyes may have looked

but the heart remained steady.

But I made a choice

which meant commitment to me

One which I cannot imagine my Life without

without constant epiphanies, meaningful study

-what a waste of Breaths that would be!

So I chose, and was told to go back.

I turned to another and again, was turned away

until rejection became familiar;

I knew how it looks when it wakes up,

when it is angry and when it is happy.

I know the scent and form it takes

what accent it makes

its footsteps when it’s near

leaves me worried that I might

begin to admire it’s demeanour.

Cruelty at its finest and hateful by nature,

Rejection maintains an attractive creature

This is what it feels like to knock every Semester

It’s my face again, spent and tired, but

might I see you in the next Trimester?

It is as if I was made to drive towards roadblocks,

build houses of Hope on unstable docks,

run towards dead-ends and the Start line

Pray tell me again where Dreams and Hope align!

..because it seems that I set out to lose out

or to be freed only to find myself running out


I still wake up for Sun after which changes the mood

and enjoy even more, the company of the Moon.

This is a story

of the unique relationship of Hardwork

and Persistence,

of Ongoing Prayers

and of Beautiful Patience.

It is the story of lovers

who thank each other’s presence

and each other’s effort and resilience

under abstract covers

known as Silence.

Even when the Day forces I to the wall

and tells me I am no good;

It is still a blessing to me, (Oh what a bargain!)

I still breathe, therefore there’s time to knock again.

Unbeknownst to you and me,

Hurt, but I still wake up everyday

and that is a Sign don’t you see?

that He has not given up on me yet,

so why should I?

Waiting to be(come),

I have taught myself to go out

and taste the heat and humidity

to learn some Humility.

And that it is okay to be the lesser known Fulān

And to never doubt as the Master’s plans


For there may be less painful roads

that I have yet to discover

still yet to uncover themselves

before my unprepared, virgin eyes.

But for now,

This hasn’t been about cashing in

bad luck, or facing bad omens!

Rather, it’s been a test for the strong-willed

and a gift for the persistent woman.

It is still untold.

It may still be unclear to me

but it’s been a unique journey

being a Thankful Servant is a tough job

but trials make it bearable, full stop.


2 thoughts on “[Poem revived] Consoling a Flower’s Dead Spirit.

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