We are mere travellers here,
drifting wherever life takes us.
No one will ever earn here
the right to dictate others’ paths.
We barely see the path here
clearly beyond the next bend.
Still, for fellow travelers here
I share my guiding North Star.
People spend their lives here
just fighting their own storms.
True, we cannot always help here,
never unleash our demons on them
On the ramp of life, true beauty is not the shade of skin nor the shine on the outside, but the light that radiates from within.
All walks the ramp, each shade on display,
Black, brown, white, and yellow, colors in a sway.
Some shimmer like silk, some glimmer like gold,
Is the outer glow that all hearts behold?
Destitute by fate—what causes this radiance?
What money can’t buy; purity shines on face,
Yet, judged by skin—what a disgrace!
The prompt for Poets and storytellers United is "We will invite you to find inspiration in this quote: “The most expensive garment you’ll ever own is your own flesh.”
An ode to the desert trees of Bahrain.
In the parched realms, it seldom rains,
Life is sparse, yet the hardiest reins,
In those barren lands to nature’s dare,
Trees stand resolute but few and rare.
Adversities turn to occasion for brilliance,
Not soil sweet, strong winds built resilience,
In the arid silence, their roots entwine,
With each storm, their strengths redefine.
Twisted but resolved, the sentinels of hope,
Throughout time, they persist, they cope,
Silhouetted, against the expanse of sand,
testament to the enduring spirit of this land.
Today, while driving to work, I saw a small bird chasing another along the road verge. It was a brief, almost comic scene — wings flutteri...
