I remember writing on the wet, yet coarse sands of the beach on my first vacation. I don’t even remember what it was that I wrote, but I remember smiling when my younger sister also joined me. I may have written a lot on paper before that, within the four walls of the classroom, but it is that memory of the beach which comes to mind. Did what I had written really matter? I had watched as the waves splashed in and washed away those words…
in silence of waves –
berceuse; was it that which crooned
my dreams to silence
For the April Heights.
(April 5th, 2012)
Vinay Leo R.
Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.