Transition, Oh transition!
Why don’t you just skip a few steps?
Why don’t you just run apace?
Why do you have to be like the unpalatable still water?
Why don’t you rush and flush these stirring emotions?
Why don’t you just fade just like the form-changing ephemeral cloud?
Why don’t you be like the flow of the agitated river which doesn’t like dwelling in
one corner only?
Why don’t you be like the sudden flash of lighting?
Why do you have to roar like thunder continuously?
Why don’t you teach me how to turn the page for good without peeping back?
I know you are here, working silently on me.
I can see you fixing the ticks of my broken clock.
I can feel you crawling slowly, trying to mend the broken bits.
I can foresee your final farewell as I gulp down the doubt-provoking feelings.
I have learnt that not everyone will stick by me even if I lift up my soul to them.
There are infinite possibilities and variations of gluing a broken glass.
Perfectly glued pieces of a glass can turn into a beautiful mirror.
Badly glued ones will result in a cracked mirror.
As much as you pump a mixture of unpleasant feelings throughout my veins;
Allow me to cuddle you for teaching me how to shield myself just like a lioness protects her cubs when everything seems to be crumbling down.
Allow my heart to murmur to you a small thank you for teaching me the value of questioning my life’s trajectory often.
Allow me to wave at you from time to time for teaching the broken crayon how to colour again.
Take your time. Cast whatever spell you have to.
For no matter how unpredictable the gust of wind or harsh the lashes of rain might be:
“The river will still learn to glitter timidly again under the pale moonlight even if the change is gradual and strenuous.”