why have you been hiding your hands behind your face, my friend… your eyes are beautiful, but it is your hands that write those verses, broken and beautiful, those verses. I do not remember you by your face… of course I recognize your face… but I remember you by your hands… your hands dance when you write. I wonder why no one ever speaks of a writer’s dance or of the wind’s voice… wind speaks… much more articulate than most of the people I came across today… but I do not want to go there… I want you to tell me what the wind told you… I saw a picture… you were waving your hands, the wind throwing your hair around… I could even hear your hysteric laughter… was it something the wind said?
I really do not want to listen to the things that they are screaming in the room across the hall… I want to talk to a friend of my heart… listening to some ambient drones earlier something happened… the phone pulled me back though and I landed with this thought: death is the truth, and truth is death… just want to tell you about it… heart to heart…
Story Of The Footloose 
“I want to talk to a friend of my heart” Your words do dance Prashant. Let’s entertain some fantasies, but,not truth, not death; let dreams rule for a moment or two.
Angel in the dust
for sure dear angel in the dust… and with much pleasure… let’s dream the most fantastical dreams!
So brilliant this one!
My grandmother raised me in her Baltic animism (see my comment about that just left in your post after this re. ‘dreams’ & then I will *try* to be quiet about it lol…) & the Wind is personified/has a spirit (as does everything). Der Wind der Wind das himmlische Kind. The Wind the Wind the heavenly child.
Also the Cold is personified… My mum used to open the window wide in winter (it gets *very* cold here) for about an *hour* every night when I was small & ask the Cold to come into my nursery. (I was put under the warm covers during this nightly ritual!). They think it’s super healthy that the Cold becomes your friend & protector vs your enemy – beginning from childhood.
Holle who is our Psychopomp (person who guides the soul to the other World like the Greek Persephone etc.) brings one through her frozen ice fields to her home. (The heroic & brave travel on to Valhalla – a place of bright light). Riding on horses w/ her – but in warm furs. So that is another reason probably children are spoken to this way re. making friends/being hospitable to the Cold or Holle. She can bring people back to Earth also. For example when one has been in a coma. They have gone to the underworld & back. People used to have a ritual to protect their infants from Holle taking them (crib death & infant mortality were common). If one travels to the underworld & back (wakes from coma or profound fever illness causing excessive sleep) – especially in infancy or childhood – one is viewed as having prophetic knowledge & wisdom. (This was/is true also in Mongolia & Eastern Europe & for Indigenous N.Americans – not only in German traditional belief).
I don’t believe in death of the soul. Only the body.
I like your words here. They ring true for me. There is nothing to fear. I have had three ‘near death’ experiences (to use others’ terminology) since infancy & that was my experience w/ those also.
You have a profound gift for writing. This is not even ‘writing’ anymore. Lol! Storytelling but really you are reading Souls here. Let’s be honest. You are reading Souls out loud. Lol. Yours & probably others you have known well or even only observed closely. Let us now call it soulytelling instead of storytelling.