My alarm tune is very melodious
I changed it recently;
Replacing monotony with music
Making mornings musical.
I wanted to be a dancer.
While dancing, repetitions make
sense;
There is no monotony;
In fact, boredom dies with each repetition.
But one day I wondered,
what is not dance?
Between the silencing of the alarm
and the announcements at the
station,
there is dance.
The metamorphosis of places into
spaces;
City’s changing silhouettes
compliment the inconsistent walks
of men.
Waiting for the uneven evening to
arrive;
There is beauty in its nifty gait.
Between the shutting of the files
and the whistling cookers,
there is dance.
The journey from spaces to places;
Gearing up for plain acts,
Plainness does not attract
spectators –
So, forgetting movements is
permitted here.
Time to steal some time from time.
Before the closing time,
the fatigued bodies must perform one
last duty;
To let the pens dance on the plain
stage,
To watch the strange formations,
Pyramids,
Pillars,
Pentagons.
Between the unburdening of
thoughts
and the burdened bodies of mornings,
there is dance.