By Varuna Verma
Fill yourself with enough mornings
Breathe deep and let the cool fresh air fill in the last alveoli
For you may breath smoke, dust and fumes as the day goes by;
Smell the mild, sweet fragrance wafting in air, source you can’t place
The day maybe filled with odours of sweat, of blood with a foul trace;
Soak yourself with the stillness all around
And you won’t mind when people ignore your questions third time round
The cuckoo and the tweets you hear
Shall calm you when faced with shouts, shrill & swear
The pink, the orange, light and bright
That paint the mornings early
Shall steer the day, as glitters blind the vision blurry
And if the day seems long, boring, fruitless and futile
Remember the little flower though called a weed, blooming in the wild;
Fill yourself with enough mornings
To last through the day,
Till comes a peaceful sleep in the night
When the cool evening breeze hums a lullaby…