Charlie – A Cat

     

 

I woke up on a morning bright,
When sunlight brushed my tiny feet.
There she was, holding me tight,
With love so pure and roots so deep.

I leapt right off the cozy bed,
Stretched my paws from head to toe,
Calling her to get me fed—
You know, I’m a foodie, soft and slow.

Once my tummy was full and fair,
I stepped outside, my hunter’s call.
Chasing dreams through open air,
Till boredom made me munch grass tall.

I followed scents, the earth my guide,
Till confusion pulled me far from home.
Just when I turned with hope inside,
I was trapped—new neighbour’s dome.

I cried aloud with all my might,
But no one came to set me free.
So I ate what came within my sight,
And waited… patiently.

Two days passed, then evening came,
A click, a sound—the door swung wide.
I ran like fire, forgetting pain,
Till home embraced me from inside.

The night was still, the house asleep,
I went to where my heart belonged.
The door was shut—but with one leap,
It opened—and I found my mom.

I mewed softly; she woke with cheer,
Pulled me close in loving sight.
Safe again, held warm and near,
I thanked God for timing right.

Between the Heartbeats

Between the heartbeats, she sits still,

Where time forgets to move.

The world keeps talking in bright tones,

But her silence has its own truth.

Unread words lie scattered near her feet,

Like echoes she chose not to chase.

Not because she lacked the strength to answer,

But because pain needed its own space.

Her heart cracks softly—no loud sound,

No drama for the skies to hear.

Just a gentle split, like a whispered loss,

That settles quietly into fear.

She holds her face, not to hide,

But to feel what must be felt.

Some moments are not meant for healing yet,

They are meant to be knelt.

And so she breathes—between the breaks,

Where sorrow learns to slow.

For even shattered hearts must pause,

Before they decide how to glow.

Feelings

Hopes — Dreams — Heartbeat,

All rise like dawn in rhythmic beat.

A world begins with whispered light,

Softly burning, bold and bright.

We build with faith, with threads so thin,

A life imagined deep within.

Each glance, each word, a silent prayer,

Of love we thought would linger there.

But time, it has its silent ways,

To fold the nights and steal the days.

No thunder roars, no bell is rung,

Just silence where a song was sung.

No reason given, no hand to hold,

The warmth retreats, the trail grows cold.

One moment near, the next — apart,

A shadow pressed against the heart.

And yet we breathe, and rise once more,

Gathering dreams from the broken floor.

For even when it all falls flat,

We learn, we grow — imagine that.

Unfinished, Yet Eternal

Something that was preparing to take form

remained in the realm of potential.

A guardian of thresholds appeared —

not to warn, but to witness.

Some connections exist to awaken depth,

not to remain, not to be entangled

They leave in silence, without any noise

Leaning a mark of softness, not sorrow.

A soul once stirred by touchless grace,

Now drifts through stillness, not empty space.

No claim was made, no chains were tied,

Just presence felt, then brushed aside.

The guardian fades with knowing eyes,

A whisper between the earth and skies.

No farewell needed, no curtain drawn —

The lesson lives, though form is gone.

What was not meant to fully bloom,

Still filled the air with sacred perfume.

Some moments pass to shape the soul,

Not to complete, but to make whole.