An evocative inward-looking poem, of despair and hope, by Amita, exclusively for Different Truths.
I seemed to forget the sound of my voice I read aloud just to hear me. I seemed to forget the light of the heart I washed it with tears, and cleansed each part. I seemed to forget the glisten of the dew I sprinkled the plants with a drops few. I seemed to forget the shades of the sea I painted all hues in every texture and degree. I seemed to recall words very wise, Shrug off and let go, reinvent, and rise.
Visual by Different Truths