There’s a patch of old snow in a corner ... That I should have guessed ...
By Robert Frost
There’s a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.
It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I’ve forgotten —
If I ever read it.
By Sa’ad Nazeer
My soul, last night,
Left my body like always.
As soon as I crashed,
It went straight to your soul.
They met but didn’t say a word,
Never ever did.
Then why does it go over there?
Why do they still meet?
And why don’t they talk?
Because I broke your heart?
You broke mine?
But why do they still meet then?
I have moved on in the waking hours, haven’t I?
You too claimed to move on, didn’t you?
By Sara Hanif
What is imagination but a world unseen,
A realm where dreams and desires convene?
It is the yearning for all that we crave,
A sanctuary for the soul, a respite from the mundane.
When I close my eyes, the scenery transforms,
The bustling symphony of humanity reforms.
The cacophony fades, drowned by my headphones’ sound,
And in that moment, tranquility is found.
My shoulders relax, my heart finds its peace,
As fresh air caresses, granting sweet release.
My skin soothed, my eyes no longer twitch,
Imagination’s embrace, a balm that heals the breach.
I see a small sanctuary, amidst nature’s embrace,
Fleeting through the rooms, a smile on my face.
In this vision, I am alive, my reflection so clear,
A part of the tapestry, where nature draws near.
Am I not a part of it, intertwined with the earth?
Nurtured by nature, a soul of infinite worth.
Do I long for it because it’s foreign and unknown,
Or is it the essence of my being, in nature’s gentle tone?
My imagination, not wild, but beautifully serene,
A world so simple, yet vivid and pristine.
Many live the life I imagine, it seems,
But do they too find solace in their own dreams?
Imagination’s boundless realm, a gift to behold,
Where realities converge and stories unfold.
In the realm of dreams, we find our own creation,
A testament to the power of our imagination.
As I wander through the landscapes of my mind,
I realize the beauty of imagination’s kind,
For in this sacred space, I am truly free,
Exploring the depths of what it means to be me.
