Musings

Before the burning stove

With a ladle in hand,

I stood transfixed.

Looking at the bubbling soup.

From its vapors

I could visualize myself

As a young girl,

Who dreamt a lot

and believed they could

come true.

The thick foliage that

surrounded the house.

became a refuge from

everybody, to dream, to read,

to draw and paint.

I was a princess then, 

ordering everyone!

now,

unstead of becoming

A Queen, I became

A Slave.

with fetters tied

to my feet, so that

I could not move fast,

could not go anywhere.

now,

this kitchen

became my refuse and solace.

here I can be myself.

as long as I cater to

everyone's need, I am 

left alone, with my thoughts.

In the end, will it be

my pyre?

It can happen any day

anytime, a cylinder

bursting, a match igniting_

that's enough to end 

my visit to the earth!