suddenly turns crisp blue
and whistles with the wind,
a poem is born…
When you were all prepared
for a rough hectic day ahead,
but it turned out to be
much softer and sunnier instead.
A poem is that little moment
tucked between two happy thoughts.
It's the stamp of time just when
a fluid darkness spills into dawn.
When you couldn't sleep all night,
it's the blanket of warmth,
that feels like a full deep slumber,
with a dream, minutes before you woke up.
A poem is the correct shade of pink,
slightly brighter and richer,
than your natural lip colour,
which makes your smile better than usual.
When you remember old days,
and quietly nod to yourself…
Someone looks back from the mirror,
reassuring, you've come a long way.
A poem is hidden
in a sleepy snail shell,
waiting to be picked up on a rainy day,
by muddy little playful fingers.
It's the song that shadows write
on blank sunny white walls,
listening to the leaves and birds,
as they turn it into a mural.
A poem is a doodle in my diary,
scribbled somewhere on idle pages,
amidst awkward pauses of work meetings,
for a quick refresh of my mind.
Between the last bronze of the sun
and the first pearl drop of the moon,
there is always a poem,
peeping in and out along silver linings.
:: This poem was written for poetry reading events and workshops for school children, lined up for this summer at the School Book Fairs, that I was supposed to be a part of. I wanted to teach the children, how a collection of beautiful thoughts can become a poem! Unfortunately, because of the current situation of the world, schools are on distance learning and these sessions got cancelled. This poem remains in my mind as a bouquet of quietly beautiful things, to refresh the mind and bring back some positivity .
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