Hope is the thing with feathers

Brindha Anantharaman

2020 - Ongoing

As the world enters the new phase, I sometimes feel left alone, but the universe finds ways to seep into my dreary mind. A whisper here and there everywhere I go, reassuring when I feel pain, Im very much alive.

Strangers leaving handwritten notes in the park echoing my mind. A tree blessing a rainbow on the grocery run, a sparrow cozied up in the foot print of a giant squirrel, the sunlight piercing a rain drop as if magic has ensued that hopeless afternoon. to wakeup to see the halloween skeleton hugging the flower pot next to it, Love that never lets go. I hear the universe speak more clearly. Although I see less people I feel like I’m more connected to more.

Hopelessness and hopefulness go hand in hand, can’t feel one without the other.

Global catastrophe strips the world down to its bare bones. It reinstates the truth that all the humans are one organism, like the billions of cells of the same organism. We may assume to be functioning independently, at our discreet pace in the vast expanse, but there is one deep core that moves us all. To breathe, to love, to breakdown, to repair, to hope, to cease we all need all of us.

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