Strength Poem by Dr. Baishali Bhaumik Mitra

Do not accept my silence as my weakness!
Sitting quiet amongst the screaming waves
I listen, I grow ….

Among a swarm of masks,
some ice cold and some smoldering,
mine gets disheveled and entangled, yet
I survive ….
I collect the strewn ashes of the canvas
that you burnt last night,
in my palm, nurturing them with my tear drop.
They become a colorful vibrant kaleidoscope and
I continue ….
I have worn a soothing drizzle
and a torrential bout of rain.
I have withered a desolate noon
and a fire tongued summer,
I await the wild storm of tomorrow, and
I hold on ….
The yesterday that troubled,
my book of errors that tortured,
are all my mentors now, lessons that I nurture.
They made the person behind this smile,
building every layer and texture of my psyche and
I learn ….
The pain that once scorched and burnt
is now a glowing amber.
The sand particle that entered
in between my oyster shell and
tormented my soul once
is now a precious pearl.
Among the inevitable and the constant, I change,
moving far ahead and likewise
I expand ….

I flow like a wild river and
blow like a passionate storm
accepting life on stride,
peeling off the sweaty and the clammy,
tiptoeing away from every greedy iron clasp,
forcing the scorching Sun to step over,
making room for a beautiful soothing azure dome,
my heart, a magenta balloon,
thrown up into the sky
away from the stench of civilization,
I will, I rise, I defeat.