everyday drives
to the noonward skies
under canopy of trees
speckled with shadows
of branches entwined
meandering ways
wild and maze
when pure thoughts
come and play
to the rhythm of the music
from the paths that lay
waiting.
and if this be the reason
to meet yourself on the way
why not concede
I'am lost and found everyday
there is bliss
and then there are-
everyday drives
to the nightward skies
or the sunsets
conceling onsets
of ominous frets
dashing old dreams to fires
drawing warmth
to bear new desires
a cold night would keep
in its heart.
and if this be the reason
to dread the finish line
why not concede
I'am haunted by the nights everyday
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