By Vijay Phanshikar
Fragrant lilies,
Bird melodies ...
Still morning !
- Self
THAT’s divine !  
 

 

This appeal of the morn ! As the day peeps out -- over the wet earth, over the night’s veil, over nightmares, fragrant possibilities present themselves as the day’s promise. The lilies open their little eyes -- and smile. The grass on the front lawn yawns. The morning’s stillness refuses to wither ! In the mind, it endures, endears itself. In the distance, the cuckoo calls -- only deepening the silence, enhancing the stillness. The Sun is still waiting in the twilight’s cover -- rather unwilling to disturb the silky moments before day-break. May this mood endure -- unsullied by urban noise, uninvaded by human greed, unhustled by human need. May one remain ensconced in that freeze of time, bathing in its poetry, basking in its cool warmth. Yet, as the cruel day takes over, the morning’s stillness will keep raising its little head in the mind, bringing solace, enhancing the longing for those silvery moments. As the day would drag on, memory of the still morn will keep one alert to a divine softness within.

 

No matter its gilt, the human day is harsh. Cruel. Wicked. Unrelenting. Quarrelsome. Cantankerous. Yet, the memory of the still morn endures within. It invites one into its cool cocoon. Every now and then, the mind darts back into its folds, dipping the face into its silky furrows ... ! What a solitude -- even in the thick of the merciless day ! Yet, one has to tear oneself out and get sucked into the noisy, busy day -- calling it ‘life’. That’s cruel -- one knows ! Yet, there is no escape. So, waits one for the day to pass -- and the night to take over, and then give in to the next morning’s stillness, coolness, wetness, melody ... ! The cycle goes on -- powered by the still morning’s quiet, endearing embrace !