Yearning for a tale untold to anyone before,
I strayed through the woods looking for the story-teller.
The one who had been there for long,
Whispering fairy-tales on to the ears of sleeping writers
From time unknown, for ages beyond.
The last time I heard about her, a gentle breeze passed through me,
Sending chills through my spine like I drowned in cold water.
She haven’t heard my prayers, my calls for Muses.
She ignored me, while I stared blankly at the empty sheets in front of me.
She was care-less, and seemed like blessing someone else,
On some other corner of the dark wide world.
I walked again, passing the shadows of a jungle so deep,
Deep through its entangling branches
Of seamless intertwined tales of fortune and grief.
Passing caves of mysterious mythic charm,
And creatures appearing to be slain through battles.
Reptiles crawled through my feet with a funny laugh,
Rabbits dug holes and called me over.
Forests were burnt down and cities were built,
Wars were fought for freedom and women alike.
I cared less for I had heard them all, or most of them to say.
I longed to hear for the tale untold,
The story that’s fresh out of the earthly womb.
But I got lost, in her magic shows and spectacles,
Stopping each time to marvel at her creations of grandeur.
And journeys and tales of epic love.
And wars and struggles for power.
And adventures in all forms.
Of sorrow and tragic nuances.
Of the oppressed and the resistance.
Of lives un-lived and gold mines un-earthed.
Of greatness and non-existence.
Of you and me.
When I saw her at last,
She was knitting and I took her for another side-kick.
She was mixing threads of tales, and fooled me again,
And showed me the colors she weaved together.
I felt my fingers over the roughness, with tingling eyes,
And the time got frozen, a moment was captured.
I smiled at her, and she smiled back…
And slapped my face real hard….