When the mind and heart work in tandem
They create your reality
Whatever you think and believe
manifests itself
Whether you progress ahead or stay stuck in the past
Depends upon your own thoughts
I know all this and yet
The past seems dear and I cling to it
The first book she lent me was
The Secret by Rhonda Byrne
The Secret was applied
And the rest was a sweet serenade
And yet The Secret couldn’t save us
from the impending end
The Secret couldn’t survive keeping it
a secret from family and friends
Perhaps it needed a helping hand
Perhaps it needed both minds
to think the same thoughts
And apply The Secret together
There are some questions of which
you never find the answer
Maybe the answer is right in front of your eyes
But you refuse to see it
Maybe the answer is screaming in your ears
But you refuse to hear it
Maybe the answer is absolutely plain and clear
But you refuse to accept it
Maybe you’ll accept it with time
Or maybe you’ll just forget the question
One such question is
Why did it really end?
Sometimes there are some places
which foretell you of the impending doom
“You’ll lose that special someone”
The shadows creep up to you
and whisper in your ears
No matter how much you try
to push aside that negative vibe
and admire the beauty of that place
That damning feeling just never subsides
Until it takes away that person
And leave that place haunted for you forever
Then there are some people
whom you must remove from your life
Even though you care about them
Especially because you care about them
The dynamics have changed
You don’t see eye to eye anymore
Every word between you two
Is only gonna hurt either you or them
Even though the sparks are still alive
And ready to ignite
There’s an unexplainable dampness in the air
Which just wouldn’t let it be
The last couple of books she let me borrow
were Fahrenheit 451 and Lincoln in the Bardo
Is burning those memories better than forgetting them?
Both irritate your eyes and cause you sorrow
But how do you really forget the good times?
Stop repeating them in your head?
On lonely nights, they are the only remnants of being loved
Your presence wades through them
Like the apparition of a friendly ghost
They come alive, cuddle and talk
When the thing between you and me
has been buried into its grave
Why do I feel like its stuck in the Bardo
Or maybe it’s just me
The fool who just wouldn’t let it go
Who believed it to be the true, real thing
Which would just never end
After all, I’m ‘slower than a tortoise’ as you used to say
So slowly but surely, I change my reality
One thought at a time
One day at a time…
Under Transformation 