a daylight dream

Walking on the grass, a smile slowly and safely forms on my face, easing an inexplicable tension somewhere in my mind. It’s green, but not completely, like a mosaic, scattered with pale weeds and unrecognisable blossoms that change with the seasons. Each step is unique and thrilling, inspiring different sensations. There are unexpected dentures that gently make my heart sink with an endearing surprise. There is moisture that seeps through my shoes, from the dew of early mornings or water sprinklers from yesternights. Some spots are toughened with pebbles and sharp rocks, but I step on them gracefully, acknowledging the idea of obstacles they are trying to vocalise. The grass is a canvas, like the sky is to the birds. On it dwells life and the accompanied secrets and mysteries that we humans can not comprehend; ants and beetles tread with a sharp aim, bees fly from blossom to blossom seeking nourishment, birds walk searching, communicating, eventually taking off an...

The dawn pierces through the darkness with impeccable faint rays of light. It also, quite recently, pierces through the deadly silence with the gleeful chirping of birds, melodising symphonies through their morning conversations. And I wake with sleepy eyes that haven’t yet got habituated to the radiance beaming in the living room. I look at what surrounds me and realise that I had fallen asleep on the sofa the night before, completely forgetting to head to the bed. At the other end of the sofa there is you, your back facing the windows so that I cannot see the features of your face— probably tired and worn out. You’re like a silhouette, deeply mysterious and I long for the sunlight to drown the room to see you peacefully asleep. I, myself, am kind of tired as well but it doesn’t cease me from smiling and feeling quite rapturous. I remind myself of our visualisations of the future; how we used to talk so much about striving to be different, to cherish the love in our heart...