He wouldn’t let her down, his little one.
She grew up in his brotherly care.
From the day he found her on the roadside, just about 5,
Covered in dirt and rags, face adorned by dried tears.
Her look tugged at his heart, triggering painful memories
Of a childhood spent on streets, clueless and lost in unknown grief.
He wasn’t ready yet – it was a responsibility too big
And yet his heartbeat said, between a pair of beats,
“Trust the quiet whispers of your heart. This. is. it.”
She looked back at them – those who breathed life into her.
Should I? Shouldn’t I? They would be very hurt.
But she saw her future beckoning
In the dark shadows of the night
The bright lights of the city of dreams,
And a voice cooed inside,
“Shh.. listen to the whispers of your heart.”
The moon shines bright with borrowed light
Against the tree, a simple silhouetted outline.
A couple in a calm embrace. Still. Silent.
He, confident, clear and determined. She, not sure.
We have dreamt of this together for so long, he said.
But I am not ready yet, she mumbled.
So he tells her, “Shh.. trust the quiet whispers of your heart.”
The heart never lies.
The quiet whispers of my heart, sing a pretty little song.
Of memories beaded in satin, of thunder, rain and storm.
A wistful look at the sky, a dazed, baffled gaze.
That took me back in time, quite far, far from today.
The pretty little song they sang, the whispers of my heart.
Made a perfect symphony even Nature could not disregard.
Try as I could, to hear the whispers out, about.
Oh no, was all the whispers said – they chose to be cryptic.
So here I am, here and now, and if you see me lost,
Know that I have just embarked within – a journey into the heart.
A long-pending journey of self love – finally it did start.