Aps- The Muddled Utopian

The hills always called her to wander, The brown, the green, the yellow always tempted her to get lost, The hues like mosaic pretended to be a mirror of her insides, Rays of light reflecting from the scattered stones made her eyes sparkle with happiness... In the hidden trails, she sought the clues of unexplored horizons, The little crawlers and shrubs gave her company, And the dried leaves rolling with the wind in the woods became the travel music she loved... The rough grass blades  sometimes  gave her cuts, and little droplets of blood oozed out like dewdrops on fallen leaves, She revisited those scars when she missed the hills... The hills had the language of silence and conversed with her in their own secret language, the rough edges, the uneven paths, the uncertainty, the thrill, Her heart thumped a decibel higher, the hairs on the back of her neck sang a little louder, the hills were her calling and they always called her to wander......

When you set your feet on unknown roads, when you believe in mirages, You discover some footprints hidden under the dried leaves and wonder! Who would have wandered here before you? What did they talk about? What deeds they do? It all lingers on in the air, it's for you to smell it's for you to encode and for you to decode! Those mountains will make you realize what a tiny spec you are in the playground of the universe... Those clouds will play hide and seek with you along with the sunrays... The twigs and trees will become your mates in crime  And those shores lines will help you paint your own map... Travel is not when you travel to different places or countries, travel is when you discover something new in the littlest of things and when you explore the new in the old... It may be stepping foot in a new country, or it may be just turning a stone upside down, as long as you unfold a new hue of nature, have a beautiful conversation ...

On a cold winter morning winter morning, she sat on an empty table alone. The surroundings were new and the faces were unknown.  There was a gloom in the air and eyes searching for a familiar smile and ears yearned to hear that friendly laughter. Brain gave up, coming to the logical conclusion that this is a new place and nobody knows you, so just accept it and move on.  But heart wanted warmth to move on. A warm hug, a pat on the back or maybe a small conversation. Cup of coffee came to her rescue . She held it with both her hands and felt a warm hug from a friend, " don't you feel lonely, I am right here", it said. With the first sip happy memories were pumped in her blood and by the time she finished, her heart was warm enough to move on to new adventures, to make new memories and to meet new people. Seriously,  Where would we be without coffee?

A mystery to be decoded, A history to be recorded. It freezes if you frame it, runs wild if you try to tame it. Slow for those who wait, runs very fast for the ones who are scared. Time seems longer when you are in pain, and shorter when you celebrate. The mosaic of the heart imprints time, the silhouettes of the veins write a story, all that was felt that made the soul melt is all that will stay, till you surrender to the gallows of time forever...  Time is puddle and it's up to us to muddle, dive in and soak up the ethereal essence, stay ashore and savor the silence, Because it will keep ticking away, even when the clock stops, And time keeps slipping away, irrespective... So love, live and give, make TIME eternal.

Bloom wherever you are planted... There will be hailstorms,  there will be rain showers, sometimes the grip will loosen,  sometimes your heart will be broken, But keep the fire burning, keep the light shining... Walk alone, walk together, run, sprint, keep going... You might reach where you wanna go or  it'll be an adventure on the road, But it will happen no matter... So bloom little bloomrie,  Bloom wherever you are planted...

Some heal aching soul, Some soothe the hurting heart, Some mark the beginning of new, Some mean the end... Sunsets are special as they set a trend... It's all a circle, we need to decide whether we want to be its radius or diameter. Trying to catch that last ray of sunshine, saving it for the night and surviving till the dawn break, Sometimes that's enough... Some leave a smile, Some leave a scar, Some kickoff endless thought chains, Some trigger a never-ending silence, Sunsets are special as they are near yet far...

When she ran they chased her, When she fell they held her, When she dreamed they showered sparkle, When she laughed, they echoed her laughter, And when she cried, they held her tears... They were her mates, whom she spoke as the sand slipped in the hourglass, And they answered to her questions without words... When they got entangled in her hair they became her hairband, And when they got stuck between her fingers, they became a ring of promise... They pricked sometimes while she walked on tough roads to ensure that she still feels, She was a wildflower and wildflowers she loved, They reminded her of her soul, wild and free... Wildflowers and She, She and Wildflowers were like the two halves of the pea in the peapod of the world... Wildflowers and she...