It’s a beautiful dawn, with tiny rivulets of light swimming across the sky, splashing myriad hues of cloud-shapes all around. The traffic and the bird sounds vie with each other to be heard defiantly.
The sea desperately awaits the healing touches of the sun to write poetry on her body—ravaged by the night lights, ravishing, piercing through her self. The moonlight, trying in vain to sing a lullaby with hesitant pearly music, lacks a reach.
This symphony, vibrating in every pore of nature, yearns to touch… to woo. The breeze writes fresh lyrics all over our skin.
If only we could attend this mesmerizing concert just for a moment—one that could transport us to paradise—that is played every moment just to serenade us. Beckoning… urging… to step into an impromptu dance with the cosmos. Cajoling the dulled heart and weighted mind with unheard notes waiting to uplift… to heal… over the cacophony constantly playing in our minds.
The sea and sky playfully try on the different shades of gold, hewn with ethereal threads of changing hues. And my heart, overjoyed, dances on wings of joy, keeping in step with the birds streaking across with gleeful abandon.
This pigeon sits on my windowsill, in rhythmic trance, breathing a language that I can only feel—creating an awe of the miraculous love of divinity… and the import and grandeur of our life… our existence… a unique note, without which this entire symphony would be left incomplete.
7:26 AM
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