By Anu Xavier
Who wakes up the Dawn, I ponder
As I lie awake, engrossed in my thoughts,
I wonder.
Is it the Mother, who swaddled her baby,
Unnoticed, as she slipped by.
Leaving with a tender look and prayer,
To keep all harm beyond the foyer.
Or maybe it was the fading night,
Kissing the Dawn goodbye.
Leaving streaks of blush
Across the burnished sky,
Until their brief union at twilight.
Did the cool mist stir the Dawn awake,
From her deep slumber, in its wake.
Tickling her face, like tendrils of hair,
With a glint of mischief and promise of play.
Whispering sweet nothings as she slept,
The crooning of the songbirds,
Might have floated the Dawn awake.
In a trance, she joined the chanting choir,
Pulsating beats and rhythm of life, transpired.
Maybe, it was Grandma, who woke the Dawn,
When she stoked the hearth, with fiery embers.
Blazing warmth, tender words, eyes full of love,
Pinpricks of self-doubt forever gone.
It could have been the early mass attendees,
Summoned from their slumber, the faithful stream,
Hustling in sync to the church bell's ring.
Awaiting the new Dawn, they sing.
Though all the reasons seem good enough,
I wish that the Dawn woke for me alone.
For in the abyss, I have been long,
Yearning for a glimmer to hang on.
Or was it me, all along,
The Dawn, The Dusk, The Calm, The Storm,
Awakening the bright, quelling the black,
To no one's tune, the pendulums dance.
I no longer wonder,
I do not ponder,
No doubts linger,
Nothing to tinker,
For I encompass all my desires,
And manifest into an enchanting Dawn-
Called life.