So where are You now? 

Used to see You in every ray of sunlight
Now I don’t even know if You hear my cry. 

– Dark Night of Faith 

Love, Musings, Poetry

Wishful Thinking

Coffee, hope, poetry. I don’t know if I’d read it somewhere, but these three words keep ringing wistfully in my head lately. Perhaps it is because they are representative of the things that tug at my heart the most in this life. Oh would we all be so lucky to have our days filled with drawn out coffee conversations, quiet hope and beautiful poetry that makes sense of it all. What else could one ask for. Perhaps it is the simplest things that mean the most after all. 



Hearts don’t have locks, she said. 

Some do, he replies. There are people who give away the key to theirs for safekeeping. Others are mistrustful and give out several keys, just in case. Then there are those who have misplaced them but never cared to look. 

What about your heart, she asked. 

He smiled.

Your words are the key to mine, he replied.

Never forget your words.