Medicine for the soul

My Buddha sat perched delicately on the mattress
With the cat near his feet oddly resembling the lotus of The Buddha
He quietly summoned me with a slight nod
The lines of distress on my face suddenly seemed to ease with that motion
Today's dose of soul medicine was made exclusively for me
A dosage so pure and powerful that it be tasted only once in a fortnight or so
His prescription involved wind in my hair to soothe the knot in my lungs
A drizzle of an hour long rain to shed away high pressure in my blood stream
Holding hands with a friend long enough to stabilize my heart rate
Untasted and unknown food to boost my mental immunity
Letting my hair loose to wash away the stiffness in my joints
Will this cure all my maladies?
This medicine is only a substitute for his presence I concluded

Here's to the normal

I have a story
An ordinary one, a normal one
Knights in shining armour and castles of grandeur do not form the main parts of it
My story is one about the soft, worn rugs
Of coloured, awkwardly shaped pebbles picked up in the playgrounds
Larger than life sacrifices don't dominate my story
Mundane, kind, imperfect friendships do
Love that makes all the butterflies in my tummy go wild builds my story
My stories aren't defined by the hardest adventure or the steepest climb uphill
But tempered by the sweat and blood behind countless small feats
They ask what is so special about your story
I say nothing, it's normal
Sorry to disappoint you
Forgive me for my recipes don't titillate your ravenous hunger
Excuse me that my stories can't be the reason for your adrenaline rush
Or the ache in your cheeks due to uncontrollable laughter
One thing I'm not sorry for is having a story
A story anything but normal
One that floods me with the pride of owning a unique identity
One that gives my name enough reason and enigma of its own
One that helps me weave hundred other stories into my own fabric
One that is a cause enough for me to smile every day!