I hope…

I hope,
I never get tired of…

the night sky,
crinkly old books,
butterflies on a sunny day,
thunderstorms,
waves crashing on the shore,
crackling of firewood,
sound of laughter,
that long tight hug,
crunching of leaves under my foot,
smile in the eyes,
sprinkles on a cake,
happy tears,
cozy socks,
the smell of popcorn,
a warm cup of coffee,
golden wheat fields under a blue sky,
window seats,
looking at the clouds,
fuzzy feelings,
petting dogs,
hugging the sea waves,
laughing so hard that I snort,
and the smile that lingers after.

I hope,
I never grow to be someone who can no longer appreciate the small beautiful things in life.

I hope. A lot.
And being hopeful is a good thing to be.

Image Credits: Unknown

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Star Ablaze

I veered off the trail. Just yesterday.

I’d been suffering, walking on it.

Following the dim star.

So I woke up and decided not to go after it anymore.

It scares me now, a little.

It’s gone. The star I never loved.

It’s dark and I can see tracks no more.

But I know I’ll keep walking.

There is more to belief than just light.

More to me than following a dying star.

I guess I’ll be my own light.

I’m ablaze within.

Enough to be my own dazzling star.

A ‘could be fairytale’

I’d been leaving. Piece by piece.

For a while.

Every time you wanted me to not want what I wanted.

I drifted.

I wanted things. Things for myself. Us. You.

And then you told me I was wrong, oh so often.

Looking for feelings in things. When I was not.

I was looking for them in you.

I told you how I was withering. Layer by layer.

You thought it was us, withering.

And so we did. Fade.

I had an inkling of the end.

It crashed in sooner than I thought it would.

So often than not. We did become what we said we won’t.

I said flower. You heard thorn.

You said rain. I heard drought.

We were We. It then turned to Me.

A flip of sides. A flip of our synchronicity.

Oh, it was a lovely tale.

A cast of transient magic.

A storm that weakened as soon as it formed.

An unquenched thirst.

Unfinished poetry.

Spilled paint, on a masterpiece.

In response to Daily Prompt: Inkling