Marías at Sampaguitas
Prose by Rajshri
you lay there. mountains surround you. clouds fill up the skies. you’re drowning under the last few rays of the sun, dipping your fingers in the last orange rays, and you let it all engulf you. stillness. beauty. silence. presences. fragments. the sunset fades away now. maybe it is the stars. the way they fill up the infinite blacks so perfectly maybe it is the pastel hues - fading into the deep blues of these nights or the way the last rays of the sun turn your umber eyes chocolate brown as your favourite song plays that mesmerises you. that saves you from this spiral; constantly unwinding.
and perhaps you too, are a spiral, finally unfurling. you realise how tonight/ you could linger in the beauty of these mountains how tonight/ the slightly cold breeze blows on your cheeks, and mere silence surrounds you no butterflies, no birds, soaring though the horizons and all you’re surrounded by now, is the clouds and clear skies and mountain flowers isn’t this how it goes, then? isn’t this one of those moments the poets write about, the moments the pages of your favourite books are filled with, fragments of the beauty you treasure?
and you are the streams that flow by you flowing, to the mountaintops and when you dip your hands in the clear water you will feel yourself passing by another fragment. wandering. merely passing by.
part of you lingers in the times you yelled your favourite songs out the window at the top of your lungs, the words seeping through the thick air, colliding with the stars. and part of you, lingers in the waves of memories, washing over you, over and over. and this is the beauty the poets write about this is the scenery the artists paint. tonight, you are the oceans you’d dive headfirst into the oceans that’d rise simply because you keep diving into the waves of the fragments simply because you keep hitting the rocks as you fall.
and these 2am skies, so infinitely beautiful, are the stills to this never ending chaos. and in the midst of these memories; coffee on blue denim and picking out lavenders and not letting the rose thorns hurt you your favourite song playing as the mountaintops reaching the skies surround you climbing up slopes as the raindrops fall/ streaking your face
you let the evanescence engulf you. and then you echo the stillness the spiral you are/ unfurling still ~ a beautiful
Rajshri’s a writer, and adores every little detail of nature, like the way the raindrops hit windowpanes, the stars, or the way the sky turns to pink as the sun sets. She also enjoys books, dogs, and coffee.
You can find her writings, posted inconsistently, on her Instagram account @sleeplessoulschaoticminds & @rajshrii.13.