The morning Sun shines
Brighter in her eyes
Of emotions, she shows no signs
Tries her best but then she cries.

She is aware
I am to go
A sundering she couldn't bear
Uncertain reaps of the hopes she sow.

My mind wanders
When I see the sunlight reflected
By the blue tinted glass
Of the buildings I usually pass

My mind wanders
When I see in the Palm tree, a Cormorant's rest
and the birds flying back to their nest

My mind wanders
When I see the Peepal's leaves
Dance in the mischievous breeze
Like how a swallow from a higher sky makes a dive
And makes the breeze so alive.

My mind wanders
Along with the four wheeled vehicle
The farther it takes the further I go
in looking outside while in its seat I lay low.

A calm weary voice comes from the corner:
'Freedom is the death of mourner.
We want the pain inflicted upon us to fade,
The time heals it all, after we're dead.'

"I need to write."
Write what?
"Something that makes the morning bright."
Carve the whispers of the wind,
sit in the Sun and free your mind.
Look around the trees,
its bangles, rustling in that soft breeze.
Look a little far away,
where the sky gently kisses the hills,
and with misty leaps the clouds play.
Look inside you as well,
the little kid who, in the nature likes to dwell.
Takes joy in the zoo of clouds,
and when remembers the daffodil crowds.
Stops to look at the frozen lake,
in the snowy evening and
says it saved his day, the crow's shake
of a hemlock tree.
Again, take a closer look inside,
somebody is watching you back.
Think of things and forget it.
Empty your mind and  he'll show you the track.

A broken vase that
Verily let the cracks shine
Was once dark inside