Photo by Flora Westbrook on Pexels.com
Striding down the stairs
I see it again
The web of silver icing the rails
I dash to the kitchen
Hoping for relief
But I see the mountain, staring at me
Running to the garden
Coffee in one hand
I do not hear bird song
But a cry for water from everything around
Tired, miffed, I break a sweat
When does this end?
I hold my breath
Inhale, exhale
My heart speaks
Darling girl, you are not a rhythm
But my masterpiece, perfected with every beat
Everything is art
You, your home, a handmade craft
A tear hugs my cheek
The sun fishes a smile
Suddenly it is not clothes on the line
But inking ideas in clear sight
It is not sponging the dishes
But scrubbing the dark thoughts into something bright.
Beautifully done, Nisha! ✨
(I came back to read it again: Once wasn’t enough!🌞)
Thank you for the kind words. Take care and stay safe.