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Surviving the Storm: Cultivating Inner Love

Skies 
do clear up
after a storm
though
with the
pallor of
a widow in
grief...

for weeks
you were
down with
ailment
fighting it,
its gusts
of pain,
that racked
your self

the gruesome
medicals
shaking up
your metabolism
to ferret out
reasons...

the horrid
storm of
medical intervention
horrible
than the pain...

bearing,
suffering... realisation
dawned...

you need
to buckle
it ALONE!
neither
your dear
or near
or those
around, NONE!
can save
except yourself!

Alone!
buck up!
don't let
the storm.
ravage your
self
on foiled
expectations
that build up...
your weaker
self
can aggravate
the storm...

Between
One and None,
fill up the
Void
with faith
in you
and the
ultimate...

accept the
mish mash,
the storm,
its fury...

biding a time
it subsides...
it is
on its way out...

the dust
settles.

the curtain
near the
windowpane
softly
moves,
in silent
whisper,
sleep off
my ruffled
rust, that
made up
the dust!

Picture design by Anumita Roy

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