Thursday, 23 February 2017

Greys to Greens


Tall buildings greyed my mornings
The smokey air reeked in my lungs
And cramped roads never were home to me.
The ghosts of sun rays
Splitting across the sky
Hitting the horizon in multiple hues
Lurked in overhead metro rides
Until I did find home
On the other side of a fenced wall
Sharing smoke at 3 am.
Tall buildings still grey my mornings
And these cramped roads are not my home
My home is no more confined
To spaces and skies and grass
My home now has a face.
Its deep eyes are dark forests
I'd often get lost in
Only to find myself
Its hair, the soft wet grass
My fingers cannot resist.
Its embrace smells of the fresh air
My lungs yearned for
And its laugh now echoes
In each crevice of my body
Like the lullaby of that nightingale
On my windowsill.
And its smile,
My crescent moon,
My solace 
In the dead of the night.

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