Wednesday, January 23, 2013
I have often seen the morn cuddle in the arms of a beautiful night,
the night, coy and bright, walking the earth in her long strides.
I have often seen the morn asleep in the arms of slumber,
in an earthy cot lying in the darkest chamber.
I have often seen the morn covered in a blanket full of stars,
the twinkle of the stars giving warmth, though very far.
I have often seen the morn, with its eyes closed,
the nightingale singing a lullaby with its sweet tone.
I have often seen the morn yawn with a break of dawn,
stretching its arms, spreading its cheer all along.
I have often seen the morn become a new day,
looking back at a night that sleeps under it today.
© 2013 Abhijit Pandit