Potpourri

  image credits:Vidya Suri

 

 

Writer’s block! It makes me feel like a log of wood, helplessly layered with salty water that had turned blue.
I wait for the birds but toads croak and moths breed.

Wind blows hard and it rains.
Water clogs on the streets and I shiver.
I feel dead as if liquid nitrogen had been injected in my veins.

....and then silver streaks flash with thunderous applaud as the pale leaves dance.
I feel like potpourri of fragrant thoughts and memories rush in with the scent of rain. The log turns alive. Green emerges from the roots, yet again, and the blues are forgotten.
~~payal~~

write tribe: 100 words on Saturday #17