ZARA M.

I am no ordinary soul you will adore. I bring intoxication, madness, and quiet delirium.  I shall be the place where your name never fades. My soul shall continue its pilgrimage towards you. Still, it shall ask nothing of you.  I shall write to you out of obsession, Several pages at once, to the edge of reason, Yet, I shall never stand between you and your freedom. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  I have not admired anyone to the extent that tears fall, tenderness peaks, and radiance blooms. May this never be unknown to you; I recognize you as the one, the only one with whom I can speak of my daily rituals, golden hours, amber dawns and violet dusks, the shades of clouds, twilight hues, sunflowers, slow afternoons of summer, and the falling leaves.  I find no other who can bear my unburdening soul or the spilling of my heart over things that seem insignificant to the world but are of colossal significance to me. I can tell no one how flowerets talk to me, smile at me, and fill my silences with their tenderness. This has remained beyond your knowing: the sacredness I find in your companionship, the solace your aura brings me, and the quiet belonging I have always found with you. With quiet devotion, ~Zara M.

Memory is the time that stays,  It sees us as we grieve in our own states,  The memory of your passing is still fresh,  How you left me crying behind your flesh.  You did not stay to see how it would affect the life I live afresh.  I was the one most loved by you; Now there is none to see me through. Reflections of a lifetime spent beside you Have all reduced to echoes after you.  A love like yours, purer and softer,  Is nowhere to be found since you. You drifted away, choosing the easiest, Leaving me to the company of only tears, Rolling down my cheeks every night since May 27 Deepening my silences to the core edge it was never,  If there is a way back to ever... (I wish.) Your favorite granddaughter is grieving since ever. I look each night to the skies, Hoping you are watching over me from the heavens. Forever your granddaughter, ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart,  If I could spend my time only as I wished and desired, I would spend it in writing alone, writing to you about the shades and rhythms of you...about the skies, the birds, and the colours of nature. I would write to you about the phases of the moon, the daily sunrises, and the rosy silence of twilight. I would speak of the seasons, the weather, and the flowers that remind me of your gentleness; of the rain, whose droplets fall upon my cheeks and soothe me with the feeling of your presence; and of the winds that so often tease me with your delightful name... I would write to you endlessly, simply to tell how dearly I hold you and to let my heart breathe through words.  ~Zara M.

 The sky bleeding rose and gold, where quiet stories unfold. The moon spilling honey and hues, while the heavens loosened their blues. The clouds showering a rain of starlight, as nature breathed in light. The evening pouring feathers of twilight, as horizons go silent... As though every sunset still belonged to you, Yet, every shade becomes another shade of you. ~Zara M.

 Dear Heart, I write to you hastily, in panic, overflowing with words, intense feelings, and trembling hands. I write what burns inside me, as the boundaries of this world restrict me from unveiling the ache that lives within; I prefer to breathe my words into the page. I am very much aware that these pieces will remain with me far longer than I imagine, unfolding only within my own solitude. Yet a quiet sting of hope never leaves my side; someday, somewhere in life, they may still find their way to you. Perhaps the pages will grow yellow and brittle and crumble at every touch as they surrender to time. It is also very much the possibility that the scattered thoughts I entrusted to these papers will one day fade into obscurity. Yet even then, they will still bear your address, preserving the deepest feelings and strongest emotions I once carried for you. Always, ~Zara M.

 I realize I have felt the golden, crisp autumn of October; the light, cool breezes of November; and the love of December during the summers of May to July. You poured into me all the blonde sunrises and the rose-lilac sunsets. That petal-soft heart of yours awakened a velveteen bloom inside the tender soul of mine. My already fragile heart could not resist the honeyed verses and tender traces you etched upon my delicate being. I, with a brittle individuality, let every fragment of me soften beneath your quiet nearness; I almost surrendered to the realization that the July within me was intensely stirred by the fullness of your presence. ~Zara M.