Mangrove Forest

It's been ages since the forest was cleared, the water had been lively and rushing exuberantly - like it should be. But there still is a mangrove forest growing on the other side. Thoughts, dark and sinister like monsters lurking in marshy lands, twisted like mangrove roots are wading their way through murky waters. Faceless monsters with only their eyes peeping from turbid waters like a hundred hungry crocodiles. Purposely hanging there - wanting nothing, needing nothing - not even the comfort of a sunny day. Rudderless undercurrents of despair have formed dangerous whirlpools. Ocean waves are distant, sun is not welcome here. When an accidental stray sun-ray finds its way to the roots of these mangroves, it asks - do you want to go someplace safe?

The only sane Thought whispers - No, once this was a safe place too.

Rest

Days have passed and they have turned into weeks, weeks into months. Seasons have arrived and left. Here's a February afternoon, kind of inbetween - neither hot nor cold, neither here nor there. Here's me waiting for a serene cloudless sky of clear lavender shade, looking at flowers in awe wondering whether a carefree life has anything to do with an ephimeral existence and birds soaring into sky not worrying anything beyond today. I wish I could just fizz and dissolve into this very nature - earth, sky and air and rest into a peaceful oblivion, devoid of thoughts, knowledge, plans and judgements. I could just rest. I could just BE.