Choitalyk Ruman's Corner

Category: Inspirational Poetry

  • A Season of Return

    By Choitalyk Ruman


    Perhaps these darker days and lengthening nights
    are not here to burden you,
    but to gently call you inward.


    A sacred invitation to retreat,
    to rest beneath the hush of the world,
    to loosen your grip and finally exhale.


    They whisper: step away now.
    Leave the noise, the stories, the dramas
    that have tugged at your spirit.
    Breathe,


    You have been holding the threads together
    through all the turning months,
    carrying more than anyone ever knew.
    You are here now,
    standing close to the threshold.
    Before you cross into the unknown
    of a newborn year,
    pause at this quiet gate.
    Sit with yourself.


    Let your soul catch up with your steps.
    This year will never circle back again.
    Its moments have already folded into eternity.


    You rushed through some of them,
    survived others,
    and grew in ways you may not yet see.
    So linger here a little longer.
    Listen to what this year taught you


    in silence, in loss, in grace.
    Another year is already breathing toward you,
    carrying its own lessons, its own veils and unveilings.
    But for now, remain here
    in this sacred pause.


    Honor every tear, every prayer,
    every mountain you climbed while trembling.
    Celebrate yourself quietly.
    Not with noise, but with reverence.
    Savor the memories etched into your becoming,
    the strength you discovered when you thought you had none.


    Bless yourself for enduring, for awakening,
    for making it through another cycle of becoming.
    You are still here.
    And that, too, is holy.

    12/30/2023, #UmmeyMiah #ChoitalykRuman

  • I Am a Dweller of the Earth

    – #Choitalyk Ruman

    I am a dweller of the Earth
    this blue planet is my first home,
    my earliest identity.
    We are born into different lands,
    speak different tongues,
    carry different cultures,
    yet we are all children of the same cosmic light,
    belonging to one eternal family.

    The soul is everlasting
    it carries no race,
    no color,
    no border.
    It knows no religion
    and wears no cultural garment.
    Its only identity is purity,
    a quiet glow that never dims.

    We are all bound by invisible threads,
    your smile lights something within me,
    my sorrow touches a door inside you.
    This unseen connection reminds us
    that human beings are never truly separate;
    we are reflections of one another,
    woven into the same tapestry of existence.

    The body is temporary
    it grows, changes, and one day
    returns to the earth that shaped it.
    But the soul travels on,
    moving beyond time and birth,
    flowing toward the endless horizon
    of divine truth.

    In the end, we are all travelers
    walking the same path toward light.
    Your identity, my identity
    beneath it all lies one simple truth:
    we belong to the same universe,
    we are children of the same eternal soul.

  • Every Moment Becomes a Memory

    By Choitalyk Ruman

    This morning I woke to quiet light,
    curtains parting on a golden sight
    maple leaves blushing red and gold,
    autumn’s beauty, gentle and bold.

    Berries gleamed along the lane,
    a feast for birds before the rain.
    The world was calm, yet softly alive,
    whispering, “even stillness can thrive.”

    Time moves quietly, never loud,
    like sunlight slipping through a cloud.
    You don’t see it leave, not right away
    until the moments start to fade.

    Breakfast laughter, a porch-side smile,
    footsteps echoing for a while.
    The simple things, we let them pass,
    not knowing they’re the ones that last.

    The warmth of tea, the evening breeze,
    a hug that lingers, small mercies of ease.
    Each breath, each glance, each tender sound
    these are the jewels life scatters around.

    So slow your heart, and softly see,
    how beautiful ordinary can be.
    Because even now, this golden day
    is quietly, gently slipping away.

    And one day, when winter fills the sky,
    you’ll close your eyes and realize why
    the smallest moments, kind and true,
    became the memories that carry you.

    #ChoitalykRuman #ummeymiah

  • When November Whispers

    By Choitalyk Ruman

    Let November become your quiet teacher
    showing how to release with grace,
    how to let go of what has already lived its season,
    and open your palms to the gentle now.

    Let your pace soften.
    Let the hush between moments be enough.
    Discover how silence itself
    can become the soil where peace quietly blooms.

    May the days arrive wrapped in tender mercies,
    the flicker of a candle flame,
    the comfort of something warm in the oven,
    the soft percussion of rain upon the roof.

    Give thanks not only for what shines,
    but for what stays steady
    when the brilliance fades into dusk.

    As the earth folds inward,
    may you come to know stillness
    not as a finish line,
    but as the first breath
    of becoming whole again.

    Let November cradle you in its gentle arms,
    its calm drifting in
    like mist across morning meadows.

    Seek warmth not from sunlight,
    but from the corners and pauses
    that remind you of home.

    Let your hands find joy in simple offerings,
    a steaming cup between your fingers,
    a beloved page turning softly,
    the hush of golden leaves descending.

    Let breath find its rhythm.
    Let quiet strength reveal itself.
    Let beauty shimmer through every change.

    And when the daylight grows brief,
    may the glow turn inward,
    steady and luminous,
    like gratitude that never dims.

    #ChoitalykRuman #ummeymiah

  • The Swing of Seasons

    By Choitalyk Ruman

    The swing of seasons no longer makes me ponder,
    I’ve learned to read the glow of pearls, to truly wonder.

    Golden fire dances on the leaves, the breeze wears a muted smile,
    The weary sun drifts across the sky, resting quietly awhile.

    I walk along the paths of fallen leaves, time crunching beneath my feet,
    The heart whispers—let go of all accounts, just hear the wind’s soft beat.

    Dust has settled on old mistakes, yet a tender longing remains,
    Like fallen flowers, memories linger, scenting the air with gentle pains.

    No fear lingers now, seasons always come and go,
    New colors, new life, autumn’s chest still holds hope’s glow.

    Not the swing of seasons, but the play of light and shade I see,
    In the glow of pearls, I find life, subtle, yet full of glee.

    #ChoitalykRuman #ummeymiah

  • The Grapevine’s Song

    By #Choitalyk Ruman

    On a wide, bright garden wall,
    A grapevine climbs and stands tall.
    Its curly arms reach left and right,
    Holding on softly, with all its might.

    Bunches of grapes hang low and sweet,
    Purple and golden in the heat.
    Each one shines like morning sun,
    Full of juice for everyone.

    The leaves change colors through the year,
    Red and orange when fall comes near.
    Nature paints them one by one,
    With shadows cool and light from sun.

    Dear grapevine, wise and kind and old,
    Your gifts are stories softly told.
    From branch to bowl, from hand to heart,
    You share your sweetness like true art..

    #ChoitalykRuman;#ummeymiah

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