Through the eyes of a walker
The glimpse of a morning walk…
And I try to be in the shoes of the walker!
I'm the walker now on,
Looking around, sniffing in-
The wet air, and the sweet breeze,
Who is telling stories shared by the ripples
Formed from the early drizzles…
The sky, still threatening of a pour,
And the nonchalant man performing shirshasana!
I stay away from the chattering crowd,
Who talk more than walk,
And I try to enjoy the walk in itself,
To the rhythm of music banging in my head-
As if the guitar is played within,
The instruments arranged in an order inside my skull,
As if on a stage!
But this walk brings glee,
Some inexplicable joy of being me,
Somewhere this makes me complete,
If not complete, filling some voids-
That can't be pointed out.
This dawn, this wetty breeze,
The sky, the waters, and the music…
A good way to start the day.
Hey, the lazy bones, still asleep within your cosy rooms-
Tucked under the duvets-
It's not that I don't like that sleep-
Just that this gives some pleasure beyond.
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