Mornings are always like that
In a rush, they slip away.
You can chase dusk, behind the day.
Some things never happen. But at sunset,
birds fly back, the horizon’s hued
The day’s toil is at last reviewed,
The sun sinks over, hours pass,
They bid an easy farewell
To the ephemeral daylight that never lasts.
Locks are locked,
All scarecrows docked,
Streetlights shine, crowds stop crashing
All deadly engines stop their smashing.
The silent voice of nocturnal calls.
to the night that lies ahead,
inevitable dues are to be paid
when the blind of darkness falls.
In wont hurry, the sky crawls,
It can’t be seen how the dark sprawls.
Painted are the clouds marooned
To their chromes, our seasons tuned.
You can even
mourn for the dawn,
Wait awhile for the golden sun;
Or till the daybreak you can doodle, dawdle
Stumble around and fall in a puddle,
Stand uptight, laugh back at the mud
And laugh again that there must be god.
Without meaning anything,
You could just laugh with genuine humor.
It can be just like that.
You can fill your jar with pebbles.
You don’t need reasons for that.
If reasons are that you must seek,
Forget your eyes, and inside you peek
Imagine how a blind man scribbles.
You don’t need visions for that.