PACE

Morning wakes up..with the ‘Shawl of Night’.                                                                                                          I see how again, a new day has arrived.

It never waits..comes on time.

Nothing ever waits. We just flow.                                      Sometimes steeper, or , other times, on a shallow way.                                                     Struggling to find an Even Path..                                            Junked now. Prosper then,.                        Stops. Takes a pace, & get flay.

It can’t be paused.                                                                It has to go through HARVESTINGS.                               Pops out, to give a pleasant breeze or sometime, stings..!

For the ‘rock’ which I had climbed, to rose up..         further steeps down..and brings me down.

 

Then comes the Night, where I stop.                             But its in motion.                                                      Waiting to understand..new morning’s notion.

And the new morning wakes up, with the ‘Shawl of Night’…

 

                  

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