sarcasticksha

[sarcasticksha]

[sarcasticksha]

When the world's a little blurry,

Sit outside, and observe the trees.

Look at the one swaying in the wind,

She's waving at you.

Look at the one adorned with taffy flowers,

She's a girl in pink, playing in the sun.

Sit outside, and observe the birds.

Look at that sparrow, he sings sweetly.

You may be a part of his song.

Look at that peacock, she sings from her heart,

"Rain, O, Rain,

Come back again,

Let me dance away the pain."

Now, sit outside, and observe yourself.

The world's not so blurry now, is it?

[sarcasticksha]

Rain.

Thank you, rain, for showering down on this day. Now,

7 sparrows take shelter in my home.

6 friends chatter happily in the tea stall.

5 children jump in puddles and laugh with glee.

4 plants have their thirsts quenched.

3 peacocks sing and dance.

2 old ladies knit sweaters for their grandkids.

1 cat, sitting by the window, tries to catch raindrops.

Thank you, rain, for showering down on this day.

Do come back another day.

[sarcasticksha]

Music kept us both alive. You played and I sang. Instead of coffee, it was your songs that woke me up. When I woke up, I always heard:

Drums.

Piano keys falling down.

The rise and fall of your voice.

The trees outside dancing to your melody.

The sun peeking in through the window, to listen to you pluck at your guitar strings.

Birds singing along to your song.

The sky turning quiet as you reached a crescendo.

The morning toast you forgot about, burning in the butter.

The tea-pot whistling.

Wind-chimes calling out to you.

You always sang for the mornings. But, you're mistaken, love.

The mornings always sang for you.

-Ksha.