Mornings

Mornings

Uncorrupted by fantasies

Nor diluted with anxieties

Purged by the night

Of all insanities

Mornings are full

Of a rare simplicity

The tea tastes great

That seems to lose it’s soul

As the day progresses

Sky visible from windows

Is touched by heavenly grace

Walls of one’s house

Bed bedding and everything that’s close

Feels like extension of ourselves

All complexities of life

Start to unravel at a gentle pace

It’s best to sit idle

Immersed in a dormant state

That doesn’t analyse nor explain

The beauty of playing dead

Take long as one can

Not to rest or rejuvenate

Nor to brace for the day

But to be with the purest form

That can ever be

Of oneself

©️ShashikantDudhgaonkar