I open my eyes. It's still dark. I check for time on my cell phone. It's 6 in the morning. Realizing, it is yet not time to get up, I pull up my blanket a little. I slide in for the warmth and shut my eyes, ready to weave another dream.
A little while later, though this little while spans for almost two hours, my eyes open again, I can feel that darkness has slipped away. I CAN get up at this hour. But no, this is not the right time, not for someone who has been embraced by laziness that wintry mornings engender. No force within me can fight this state.Or should I say, I have tuned my mind not to. Such is the delight in a winter morning.
These days, every morning I wake up, I go out of my room and when the cool air brushes my face, it seems the day has been colder than the previous one. By everyday, winters seem to fortify their position. I don't know about others, but there is someone who has been reveling in these cold winter mornings. And that's none other than me.
I wish they stay here for sometime. I wish there be some more fog. Fog that envelops you in its embrace to the extent that it blurs your immediate surroundings. I wish there be some cool breeze that touches your face, seeps inside and give you the chill and thrill.
Why do I feel guilty? Why do I sound cruel? By the night, there is a clash of the romantic and the realist within me, the one that glorifies winter mornings and the other whose thoughts reach out to those who dread winter for the lack of protection from the frightening and fatal cold. Thus, I earnestly wish, everyone gets protected and gets a chance to witness these enchanting winter mornings.
l'ame inassouvi ??? the thoughts shared, suggest otherwise ...
ReplyDeleteI am told
ReplyDeleteonce there was a Magic Quill
that wrote the lyrics of God's Heart,
In doltish War of Words
it got lost in the Sacred Desert.
Ever since, many warrior poets
have taken a mystical quest
in search of the missing quill,
But to this day it lies hidden.
Although the quests were unfruitful,
blessing came in the birth of poets
who never went hunting for that quill,
but sat instead to write such words
of man's heart in glee and in ache.
:) :) I am glad you liked it. Its from an anthology of poems I recently got. I would like to share the rest but can't type all of them.
ReplyDeleteI loved it. I wish I could write like this..
ReplyDeleteYou do write like this and you would surely be very surprised if you knew the identity of the author ...
ReplyDeleteyou are being over generous in your complements..by the way who is the poet?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteFunnily enough the poetess said the same thing, when I complimented her writings. I guess it the humility that comes from being able to create something because I am simply stating a fact. The garland of words that you weave has a unique fragrance.
DeleteP.S. : If you don't mind, i would prefer to converse in a more secure manner. I am paranoid when it comes to privacy and have a certain aversion to public forums on the net. utkarsh2040@gmail.com