A new sunshine stud with blue dandelions and prayers,
made souls hope to witness magic, days after.
I slowly stepped out of my veranda mumbling,
on the stories of the previous hours that went disturbing.
But the innocent hues of the dawn helping me create a morning reverie.
This aesthetics made me long, long greedily for divinity.
The lights, where are they???
A slash of rayed black clouds gather furiously...
Hoping that morning's life would still prevail I yearned for divine help.
Have repeated hymns, mantras several times but the clouded shadows never disappearing.
Hoping again, I went closer to my trees, plants and the newly born roses to whisper help,
as what if lights came from them.
By now the clouds had already began to drizzle,
leaving my hopes deserted,
I went in mumbling stories of the yester years.

© thepoetharri