She lived in a concrete jungle –
a mundane life
duty bound
devoid of passion.
She was bored
cold
stiff
as if her soul had been sucked out
of her.
From her bedroom window,
she would often stare
at the mountain tops;
they seemed to beckon to her.
She heard the whistling winds
whisper messages into her ear;
and when the sky was a clean blue
canvas,
she read notes being painted on it.
They were invitations!
Those were the moments she cherished
-
her boredom forgotten
un-cold-ed
un-stiff-ed
her soul back in safe haven.
Words came easy -
flowing gently on paper;
her mind singing,
her soul dancing.
And then she’d be engulfed
by the concrete jungle;
her cherished moment frozen.
Change was just an oscillation
between these moments;
and liberation
a mirage in the desert.
So, she took a ride -
the winding roads
forested roadsides
scarce settlements
all feeding her soul.
It was the beginning of her journey to liberation.
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