"Germinate Another Morning"

 

Since last year, having a cup of green tea and staring at a blank screen, early in the morning has become a ritual. In the background, there is a chirping of birds and an ascending sound of mankind. Glimpses of nature before the rat race starts is meditating. The sun's rays peek through the window and fall on the keypad. This is the exact moment when I fall short of words. When the still morning transforms into a movable one, everyone stops daydreaming. It is an announcement to leave the home, to build the house. So, I too have to get back to work with the hope for the paragraph to germinate another morning. 

In the evening like birds, I enter the home with an exhausted body carrying the minute raw materials for the house. The dormant walls come alive as my shadow steps in. The diary placed next to my bed smiles at me, and in response, my placid face sighs. As I freshen up, all the strangeness sheds away. I keenly look forward to early morning. Still, the night commands my mind to think haphazardly. I find myself lost in abandoned memories. I drift from one memory to another until I fall asleep.  

Without any effort, I wake up before the alarm rings. I feel increasingly excited to sit with the unfinished paragraphs as I welcome the sunrise. When emotions grasp the hands of words, magic unfolds. The music begins to blossom. Through the window, I see the world dancing as if no one is watching. The harsh world appears gentle. I luckily witness another morning of germination. 

The mourning hits in the night;

Which pales in the sun's bright.

The waiting suffers in the night;

Which hopes in the sun's bright.

~Aamna