Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with words playing out in my head. If I don’t get them down, they disappear in around five minutes, so I’m thankful Evernote exists! Last night, this is what I woke up with…
I thought you were a song,
And I played you
Over and over in my head,
Till the leaves turned brown and the
Ice fell upon the soft thrush of meadows.
I thought you were a whisper
And I let you fly with the winds,
Beating through my hair
And onto the shallow graves
Of summer.
I thought you were the fire,
so I let you burn,
Giving birth to the embers
Of yellowed disappointment.
Rhea Dhanbhoora has been writing since childhood, has published a book of poems (Poetry Through Time, published by English Edition in 2003) and is currently a Literature student, writing features as part of a full-time job. She can’t imagine a life without writing and one day hopes to be able to live and breathe off the words, preferably in an idyllic country setting somewhere. Food, music, reading and travel are high up there on the list of things she loves reading and writing about. Writing to her is, like life itself, an adventure – a journey to find her place, to define and redefine who she is over and over again and to live and learn through the process.