The clouds hurled in,
And the thunder gurgled,
Today, they ask you to stay out of its way
But there’s never ending delusion of chores
There’s race and charts for pace
Being someone and getting somewhere
The thunder and the clouds thrathened
They will whisk and wash your ego away
Truce brings dead poets and artist
They recommend :-
a Friday feel
A Venus day
A tub of warmth of kindness of eyes
Mixed with salts that take murkiness of hurts and struggles away
Candles of essence of purity and zeal
Singing bowl plays in background
Survival, is not it…
Rose quartz, lavender, amethyst and chamomile
Now look, I brought you effortlessly to Paradise
– Rupika Moitra
Flutter and Glide 