The two birds chirping
on the edge of the branch,
the bright sunshine lifts the wing;
silently, yet willing takes a new fly
The lens for the brewing dusk
is waving some frozen orange glance.
The night will sleep with many
bygones, stories weaved and tried.
We will be playing a new note
or ideally nurturing changes.
The dates just get flipped and
we turn some new pages.
And they pick some new buds;
Shifting the puller on the wings.
The gateway remains the same.
closing choosing a much inner peace.
The robins seen a blessing
not for the travelled ones,
but for the unexplored dimensions.
Life will be more complex,
thing will be more narrative;
setting for a funnel of journey.
Little can be prescribed how to come
As much the year taught for a season!
