Today’s prompt: Write a piece of prose or poetry that uses the words black eyes and cold winter rain.


The syncopated pitter patter of this rain on my tin ceiling

is weaving a symphony, like the fleeting touch of the thrumming harp wire;

a constant reminder of the scattered memories making their way 

through the thin sluices of  my corrugated roof

my window frame getting battered by the gale is an unbroken reminder 

that there is a dream birthing in the black of my eye 

the swirling surreal  dream shimmering as they dazzle in my eyes

are contesting the festive lights decorated throughout my sepia tinged room

These little blurbs of serenity and incomparable joys have taught me that 

nothing stays forever, even the boisterous gale battering the pain in my windows.

A haunting reminder of the sullen memories will stop and die down eventually.

Beautiful dawn will birth in the crimson folds of the horizon and with hopes and desires 

seeded in our black eye, arms wide open to welcome the new year, 

we will inhale the breath of a fresh new year emerging on our doorstep.

—Megha Sood


3 thoughts on “Emergence

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