The Bliss

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True bliss is not found in desire, but in dignity, compassion, and a love that heals


The Bliss

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Like autumn leaves unmoored from memory,

My years were borne on time’s unpitying sea.

Not to replace the love I once had known,

But seeking still a peace to call my own.

***

A bud was bound before it learned to bloom,

A bride adorned in youth’s unripe perfume.

Yet motherhood, that distant, sacred flame,

Withdrew its light and would not speak my name.

***

I wandered through white halls of muted breath,

Where hope lay pale, acquainted close with death.

In shrines where incense veiled the weeping air,

I knelt among the ashes of despair.

***

The stars, in cold indifference, were aligned

To write denial deep within my mind.

Their silent scripts, like frost on tender ground,

Left barren fields where dreams were never found.

***

Through searing suns that scorched the patient land,

Through monsoon grief no heart could understand,

I walked as one whom fate had marked apart,

A quiet exile of a yearning heart.

***

They named me barren;cruel as winter’s breath,

A living soul condemned to inner death.

Each word a stone the merciless would cast,

Yet still I bore the ruin of the past.

***

Then, like the dawn that breaks through endless night,

A fragile life awakened into light.

A whispered pulse beneath my silent plea,

A fleeting grace bestowed too late on me.

***

For time, unkind, withdrew what it had given,

And claimed my earth before it reached my heaven.

My child, my love-both vanished into air,

Like mist that leaves the morning cold and bare.

***

Thus was I crowned with sorrow’s unseen thread,

A widow’s veil where all my colors bled.

No hearth’s warm glow, no hand to share my bread,

Only the echo of the words unsaid.

***

Yet deep within, beneath grief’s hardened stone,

There stirred a life no sorrow could dethrone.

A hidden flame, though tempered by the years,

Still burned beyond the reach of mortal fears.

***

So now I seek not passion’s fleeting art,

But one who reads the language of my heart-

A steadfast soul, a refuge calm and wise,

A sheltering shade beneath life’s fiercest skies.

***

Let this be not desire’s restless fire,

But something far more sacred and far higher-

A union wrought in dignity and grace,

Where wounded hearts may find their rightful place.

***

For bliss is not in rapture’s swift embrace,

But in the quiet strength of love’s true face.

In hands that hold, yet never dare confine,

In souls that walk as equals, yours and mine.

***

So here I stand,though weathered, still I rise,

No longer lost beneath forsaken skies.

A life reclaimed from sorrow’s shadowed abyss,

Still reaching out  in search of rightful bliss.


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