Let it be. Simple, isn’t it? But experience says that’s one of the hardest things to do. Even a simple act like writing a daily gratitude journal will flourish only if we master the art of letting it be—letting the words and gratitude gleam and bubble up naturally. You know what tampers with letting it … More Let It Be
Welcome to the two hundred and fifty-third edition of Fiction Monday. “Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.” – Carl Bard Stories From Last Week Cinquain Contemplation by SarahThe nature rhyme by SuzanaRhyme Time by Vinitha Fiction Monday Word Prompt – GLEAM The idea … More Fiction Monday – 253
Oftentimes, I feel like a brick,When I try to rhyme, I get stuck.In finding words that gently nudge,To keep me going, I feel the urge. Writing perfect poetry—Now that’s a real mystery.But I can’t give up, not yet,For verses lift me when I’m upset. When I dare to let thoughts flow,Through woven words that softly … More Rhyme Time
but there isn’t any.some days lack the fuel—to move, to make, to feel.no motivation to go on,no inspiration to create,no energy to smile,not even enough to cry. some days offer nothing.and on those days,I remind myself—it’s not the will that’s gone,but the strength to seethat will still waits,beneath the weight of it all. the will … More The Flicker Within
Asking for help—it takes courage,the kind that tremblesbut steps forward anyway. To accept itwhen freely offered,to lean into itwithout shame,without shrinking your worth—that is strength.That is wisdom.That is human. You may choose not to help,or give with an open heart—both are yours to choose.But never askwhat you’re owed for kindness.That is where helploses its name. … More The Grace in Helping
I hold on to my memories so dearly—sometimes, I fear they’re all I have.Perhaps that’s why I keep making new ones—snapshots from todaythat might sweeten tomorrow,like faded photographs tucked into the corners of my mind. But memories, they fade—softly, quietly, bit by bit.That’s why it matters to live each momentas if it truly counts—because it … More Memories, They Fade and Gleam #FictionMonday #Poem
To be a whisper—of poetry, or a poet—wouldn’t that be marvelous? A letter, a line, a fleeting theme of verse—To be any of it—how wondrous would that be?Or to be a poem itself! When I meet a poem, I feel a perfect union of souls.Do you think poems wander,searching for a home,a place to rest?I … More Whispers of a Word #FictionMonday #Poem
Pause. Think. Overthink. Hesitate—for what?to speak your truth?such a simple word,yet so hard to say—No. No stands firm,fearless and whole.no justifications needed,a sentence—wild and free. Say no with no guilt whatsoever,create space to breathewhen mindless yesesbegin to suffocate you. Find power in staying true,show self-love by claiming your space.exercise your right to say no,say it … More The Freedom of No #FictionMonday
A sepia-toned swatch of moments from yesterdaysplaying in my mind’s courtyard,serenading my today—a quiet, tireless hum enveloping. Memories gather—soft echoes of what was,a distant glow of the past inviting meto go back in time andlinger a moment longer,past, where I sometimes seek refuge,and sometimes, find one. I reach for the warmth of voices once near,the … More Listening to the Hum of the Past #poem #FictionMonday
Rain is a feeling, gentle and sweet,even if it is mere raindrops flirting with your windowpane.It fills your soul with tingling warmth,a sensation only rain can evoke. It empties the void,inviting nostalgia into the crevices of your mind.Rain is meant to be felt,with passion, every now and then. It rained this weekend. The week began with scattered droplets, teasing us with the memory of rain — something mostly absent … More It Rained Yesterday #Poem
Beyond Scribbles 