Waking up to the stream...

This morn is like
Waking up to a stream,
The same one perhaps
Like a dream,
And yet as dreams change the real,
And the real to more dreamy feel,
me sees You,
Your awesome cool of drops of kind
On soul, on palms, on hair, on ears, on lids of eyes...mine,

And me sings only you
Love, the way you transmute heart...
To calmer, deeper, denser, a soul,
To bestow sparkle of silvery gold...

And the streets, the roads, the unopened scopes
Of the city...
The cool they all feel till they get filled with satiety...

And me sings more for the stream
To cause the flow of a rhyme within...
Never ending...


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