I look upwards but can't guess what the time is
3pm or 4pm?
The day is waning
The dull quietness is ruling everywhere
Silently
It’s all void of sound, noise or any voice
The stillness is ominous
(ominous... perhaps is not a right word,
you might call it...intuitive)
The shadows are falling oblique
Sometimes get elongated
Then vanished
The sand grains in the glass
Are on the move
Constantly
No one can dare to stop
The twilight from coming
And enveloping all the scene around
Soon all the colors of nature
Will hide themselves
Behind the ruling gray
Yet all is not dark still
So nice it is to have a walk
On the soft shoulders of the rustic roads
Neither dark nor bright
And to explore the mystic ruminations
Falling so intuitively
Never forget to keep the pen and the pocket-diary ready
For capturing such creative moments divine
Human company is not wanted as it might kill
some feel of the moment
By the prosaic talk of the here and now
Keep looking straight
The way is at a risk of losing
The shadows of the avenues of the side trees
Are printed on the road
Some will see the nightfall
As their final stop
Some will be on the move
To witness the next dawn breaking
Or beyond
The river-bed on the west
Is ready for the tired sun for a night sleep
We shall wait for the bright dazzles of the new dawn
Just a night away
The company of the lighted bulbs
Is pleasant enough to bear the unbearable wait…
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
On the books-strewn bed, with the dream-filled pen
A new poem will fall tonight
the mind is ready to receive!!!
