Since Day 0 writing a few words everyday has become a sacred ritual. Of late I have been struggling to remember how things were on Planet Before. My memory of myself from the past is now faded and hazy. I can’t remember how exactly things used to be. I can’t remember writing in any meaningful way ever before or having any talent or aspirations for writing. I did enjoy poetry but writing as much as a global e-mail within my department would make me quite nervous. I avoided the ‘reply all’ button at all cost.
This morning while sorting out some old papers I found a loose ruled A4 sheet with a shopping list in pencil on one side and a few lines in black fountain pen scribbled on the other side dated 9th November 2010. All of this was in my hand-writing. Reading these lines felt like I was being re-introduced to someone I once knew.
“Today my heart is pink,
And for no reason at all
My voice wants to sing.
The autumn leaves, burgundy and orange
Dancing along the pavement
The skies unable to make up their mind,
Sometimes dark, sometimes light
Playing with time.
My fingers a bit achy
After 13 hours of work
I notice me feeling a bit shaky.
But my spirit shines
I feel the warmth of a pair of glowing hands
Holding me safe and keeping my faith.”