The old attic, my saviour!

When I be in the blues of my mind,
And my whole day of living seems to be a difficult kind,
With turmoil housing in my thoughts,
It’s the attic I run upto
Amidst a dusty old trunk and hoards of  abandoned articles,
Look for the peace ,which I sought.

In this old  attic,
I find the answers to my problems
That lay hidden tied  up with a red thread  inside that old trunk,
They were grandpa’s hand written notes on life, for me they were thoughtful  solemns.

Flipping through the pages of the binded notebook,
Strangely they give me a whole lot clue,
Trust me, his pathfinding tenets
Had become my Bible for Life , a statement just so true!!

For up in the attic, a place to sit in solitude;
Order comes after chaos receeds,
My outlook towards specific changes too,
My burden seems to be lighter , slowly fading away the blue…

He was my guide now gone too far,, but his presence remains ,
Through his musings ,
I get answers everytime,
My love  for his reads has very gone in vain.

The dust piled up on the trunk, is worth a clean
For the key to my bleeding heart lie hidden in the attic,
In between those handwritten lines ,
Which for others might be  just few scribbles, 
For me it’s his way to be connected with me , feel eternally divine. …

Miss you Dadu ( Grandpa)❤️
©unblossomedyet