A stream of warm light
Peeps through the curtains
Playing hide and seek on my face
And coaxing me to open my eyes
Morning speaks the language of tranquility.
The sound of the slow bustle
Surprisingly makes me calm.
The smell of freshly baked bread
Wafting through the air
And the gentle rustle of trees against my window
Convince me to get a move on.
A lot of work done
A lot yet to do
Hunger slowly opens its eyes
A small break to watch the world whizz by
A small break to see the sun bright.
Afternoon speaks the language of laze
However for many, it passes by in a haze.
The sun right above our heads
Drains us of our energy and drives us inside
Because he says it is the time to be industrious
And finish breaks, in a haste.
The sky starts experimenting with colors
Yellow, orange, red, purple
Life slows down, our thoughts go back
To the past, happy and sad
Evening speaks the language of reminiscence.
Memories long forgotten
Which shaped our lives and made us
Who we are, for better or for worse.
He spreads out his light, far and wide
Before escaping from our grasps
And going into the hide.
Out comes his lover
With her friends, the stars and the clouds
Playing chase and peek-a-boo
Varying the sky’s dark, subtle hue.
Night speaks the language of discovery
Of new ideas, originality and creativity
Where in the mind
opens its doors
To wandering thoughts from far and beyond.
Which sojourns in our mind
Before drifting away like the gentle wind
Making a mark on its way, and in our lives.
~Athira :)
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