WHITE LACE

WHITE LACE

"I lose a feather everyday.
Each day I set me free."
White dove with no peace within
Fall each day from the same tree!

Girl with a white lace, born a cloud-
an untamed mare on a wilderness vast.
Yet deliquesce down one grey day,
incapable of making any new past.

Who knows how much the beacon shone,
When dark they see the night!
Alone in the darkness, a baffled soul,
should she die without a fight?

She paints her feathers in her iridiscence
Each morn, to fool her heart.
Yet snow shall fall, shall fall and melt.
In time, she'll have to part.

Across the blue sky, in a stark white lace
She writes her calligraphy in her flight
With eyes on the ground she flies high up
Coating her tears with a paint of delight

-Mx

Life is a giant book and each day is a story. White lace is such a book, the life of a girl born free as a wild cloud. Each day she falls, she looses something and each day she picks herself up, moves forward.
Sometimes we face a challenge that takes up many days, and at present, this white bird is not at peace.
To her surprise, so stuck is she on that issue, that she feels she cannot be free and happy as a cloud again. And now she is stuck up, incapable of letting go.

"Who knows how much the beacon shone,
When dark they see the night!"

This line talks about human behaviour. When upset, we do not think of how good the world was to us and focus on the bad alone.

"Alone in the darkness, a baffled soul,
should she die without a fight?"

In the 'darkness' of the issue bothering her, she feels alone and confused but she wonders should she just cease to fight? Should she cease to be herself?

Some problems can be dealt with once and for all. But so many are not so easy to deal with. One such issue she has come across. She realises it is a part of the story of her life. She decides to simply accept it, smile at it, and let her story continue.

The Caterpillar

Scared, he crawled as fast as he could. Without glancing back, he knew that the beast was up close. 'Just a few more inches!' He thought.
It was probably a lucky day, the little caterpillar reached a small hole in the branch just in time, leaving his winged enemy empty stomach.
'Phew!' He thought.

The bird peeped into the hole.
'You know I will get you. Why the fight! Huh' mocked the bird.
The caterpillar lay silent, coiled into the farthest corner.

'Get, fatter, you crawling little treat, I shall get you tomorrow, ha!' And the bird flew away.

The poor little caterpillar was frightened. He knew he could never go far enough to escape the wrath of the evil bird!  Following this, he was upset. 'He is right, that monster of a bird. I am just a juicy treat. There is nothing more to my life than crawling up and down these branches!'
Following this, he was angry. 'Its your fault, God.' He accused. 'You make him big strong and also let him fly. While me? I am just a wretched useless thing, insignificant, mocked and hunted!'
He sat and thought about his misfortune.
While he thought he was meant to scale branches for the rest of his life, destiny had something else in store for him!

'Rest within me' he heard.
'Who is this?' He asked, shaking.
'Why, I am your mother tree!'
Confused, the little caterpillar lay silent.

'Trust me, you should trust yourself a little more dear child!' Spoke the mother tree.

'But that bird is right.' Protested the bug.
'Yes he is. You are a tiny child, he is a big one. But remember, you dont have to be what you dont want to!'
Seeing the caterpillar even more baffled, the mother tree said 'come here, rest, and let your destiny be welcomed by your optimism! You alone have the key, child'

Unsure, the caterpillar decided to listen to the seemingly wise mother tree.

A few days later, emerged the butterfly in full glory. He batted his lovely wings as he pushed through the wind.
'I can fly!' He exclaimed.

He went round and round and before he plunged into the unknown, he came back and sat on the mother tree.

'I thank you for everything mother.' He said.
She smiled. 'Goodbye, child' she spoke silently.

THE PURPOSE

THE PURPOSE

He was walking his son back to home from school. The sky was bright with a few clouds flowing in with a mid summer breeze.

'Father' spoke the six year old breaking the strange silence hovering that afternoon.
'Yes?' The father asked.
'Why do we go to school?'
At first he smiled at his innocent question, remembering his own childhood. The son looked at him intently. A smile would not suffice, he realised.
'Well, all good people go to school!'
The child thought for a moment as he hopped over a few pebbles that lay on the sidewalk.
'But' he asked 'you and mumma dont?'
'We went when we were children, dear.' father replied.
'So when we stop being children, are we not 'good' anymore?' Asked the child, evidently surprised.
Taken aback, the father spontaneously replied 'Ofcourse not!'
'Then?' Enquired the curious little kid.
'I need to be cautious!' Thought the father.
'Dont you like school, dear?' He finally asked.
'I dont hate it but it isnt always fun.' Child replied.

'Well, you must start liking it! It is absolutely necessary, you know!'
'Why?' Asked the child again.

'Do you remember the coffee beans you were playing with the other day?'
The child nodded.
'Do you remember how you love its aroma?'
The child nodded.
'We all have a purpose, son. For us to realise it as well as prepare for it, we need to go out of our comfort zone. Afterall, the coffee bean cannot be used to make my cappuccino unless it undergoes the roasting! It is that roasting which brings out the flavour.' He held his tiny hand as he nodded, lost in another string of thoughts.

Together they walked down the street as usual. 'It is strange how this feels different each day' the father thought. The clouds came, the clouds went.
'Find the purpose' he thought.