As I sat near the open window, in the morning, with tea in my hand, the curtains swayed gently with a cool breeze.The remnants of an, all night rain, made the leaves outside shake off the droplets of water from them.Clouds covered the whole sky with no sign of the Sun. The last of the September rains, receding after a final try at rejuvenating the Earth.
…and the leaves started falling. They had been changing to yellow from green. They had been turning ever so slowly, and now they fell.
Firstsigns of Autumn approaching. Undoubtedly, Fall is always grand. It always takes the breath away with its beauty, its miracle of colours. Its magic of transformation, but the truth is, it is after all, the beginning of the end of a life cycle.
Time to let go, in anticipation of a new beginning.
Warm, delicate, lace rugs of Sunshine.
Right under the feet, when the Sun shines.
Appear magically, only when the clouds part.
When the curtains are drawn, creating filtered art.
Fresh cool air, fills the lungs,
butterflies in the stomach, that unexplained joy brings.
Chill in the breeze, clears the head,
delightful morning dew drops, shivering buds.
No more scorching Sun, no more incessant rains.
No need for warm clothes yet, pleasant walks again.
Full canopy of trees, lush carpet rolled out of green,
greenary everywhere, like velvet cape of a queen.
Festivities round the corner, new memories to remember,
best time of the year, the month that is, September.
Photo Credits Go To Cdr. Rajesh Sinha(Retd.)
Bluest of blues, the true blue. Trustworthy and loyal. A Royalty. Mixed with purity of white. The monsoon sky.
Finally, the sky poured open its heart,
rain falling like an outburst of joy and sorrow.
Making the existence lighter for a restart,
for a better tomorrow.
Photography Credits Go To Zubin Oommen Ittyerah
If only we could be invisible,
the winds bringing painful memories of the past shall not find us.
Unsettling the calmness of life, with emotions superflous.
If only we were invisible,
the pebbles of memories of losing someone shall not hit us.
Causing ripples in the lake of present, with which we adjust.
Hiding peacefully in the serenity of oblivion, we shall be withering away our lives.
Instead, let’s mourn and pay respect to the souls of people we loved.
Let go and rejoice at the passing away of bitter memories of the past.
Be visible again,
to welcome the breeze of new moments, turning into happy memories.
To welcome the wind which causes waves in the present, writing new stories.