Just one day

Mon, 26 Nov 2012 00:00:00 +0530

The ripples on the quiet lake,
twinkling stars on a moonless night,
and his lonely, crazy, thoughts,
yet again, his faithful companions
on another of those countless nights,
searching for meaning, awaiting the dawn.

the night crawled by, as he drifted afloat,
memories of the past and dreams of the future,
until approaching footsteps, brought him back
did the chill of the wind, get to his head?
or was his guarded secret, not his anymore?

Before his thoughts, collect, he could,
his friend, from far away lands unknown,
was there with him, to share his thoughts,
to hear the wind hum the tunes of yore,
while the stars and the lake, as a duo, danced.

They watch the sun rise, from atop the hillock,
basking in the warmth, and see the town wake up,
lose themselves in the woods below,
on their way back, rest by the lake shore,
watching it, silently, shine in the daylight,
letting it wet their feet and clear his head.

Together, they cook themselves, a delicious meal,
n enjoy it, with some of the choicest old wine.
Catch-up on things, and yearn for more, discuss
all the many things, under the sun, and over,
without a clue, as to how much time flew by.

Riding away, as fast as they could, they reach,
just in time, as the sun set, over the seas,
perched on bicycles, in mirrored positions, with
resonating thoughts, the horizon, they watch
the sun set, the beach light up, and the fair begin.

They ate and drank, sung and danced and
just had a good time, for the rest of the night,
indulging, in all that the fair could offer.
the night was long, but if wouldn’t go on forever,
pretty well, they knew, they day was to end.

the twinkling stars they watched, yet again,
but to the sea’s song, on the still warm sand
slowly, but steadily, into sleep he drifted,
only to be awake, moments later, with the
bright sun coming harshly down upon him,
lighting up the lake, like a carpet of jewels.

all he had, once again, were just his thoughts,
the lake, and not the sea, by his side,
with fading impressions of an impossible dream
after all, wasn’t it just too much action,
for just one day, for a life engulfed by ennui?

One some day, he told himself, and walked away.

Inspired by a friend.

Friend on Noetic Nought

Just one day