They say
Writing and magic,
Are two different things.
But when I
Don't know
What to write,
I look up to the stars,
And simply whisper your name.
The stars smile,
And send their stardust on earth.
The words start forming
On their own,
Filling all the blank sheets
In my hands.
A million threads
Weave themselves
To stitch,
A beautiful tapestry.
And in front of me,
Stands an ocean full of words.
Waiting to be read,
Realized,
And felt.
And if this isn't magic,
Then I don't want to know
What is.
YOU ARE READING
unsaid
Poetry'I wanted to speak oceans, but only told you a drop.' #itsnotaphase {Started on Jan 10, 2017} {Ended on April 1, 2018} #1 in poetry (when the ranks used to actually matter) for 365 days (and more).
