Mornings, at Six

If you had a good night’s sleep,

There is nothing welcomer

Than the break of the dawn.

To lie on bed, watching

Eyes half-open, at the darkness

Paling, leaves of the Jack

And further away the Mango

Filtering just enough light

So that your eyes do not hurt.

There are always the birds.

Sweet tweet of the Robin

Sunbirds chirping, peering at flowers

Cuckoos always so flustered,

Plaintive, like mothers in kitchen

Scurrying about in the morning

And the omnipresent caws

Of the crows –

One will love even the crows

On such a morning.

Mornings are always so cool.

Bitterness of yesterdays,

Burdens to carry today

Bleakness of the future –

For a gentle moment, all pains are gone

As curtains flutter in the breeze

And the strains of hymns waft in.

I hear the soft taps

Of his nails

As Tommy comes up

And then the door is rudely pushed open

As Sancho comes barging in,

Ahead of his father.

The wet slurps, soft whines

And then the nuzzling on the ears -

What could be a better way

To begin a day?

The telephone rings –

My love, to say hello.

************** Balachandran, Trivandrum 25.04.2009