The Sun

On a cold October morning, I’ve woken up at half past four

I’m sitting in the balcony, of my house on the 8th floor

I look at the horizon, and I see he’s not there yet

But, I’m so excited that I just can’t get back to bed

Everything around looks a shade of brown and black

It’s as though I’m seeing the world through a tinted lens pack.

I look behind me and I see a canopy of roofs

I can’t get through them deep into their grooves

May be there’s a beautiful lawn or a garden full of flowers

I think, how I’ll never know even if I’m in one of the towers

I turn a little to my right and I see an unfinished room lit,

May be the labourers are working into their night shift

Further right, my eyes freeze on a patch of brown,

I can still hear sweet voices of children on that school ground

So I’m back to looking east, and I see a faint red glow

The brighter it gets I see true colours of things below.

And slowly emerges a foray of colours,

First red, pink, orange and then the others

It spreads around and envelops the entire eastern sky

It’ll happen anytime now, he’s only a moment shy.

And finally, he rises all majestic and bold

He looks just as beautiful as I was told.

On a cold October morning, I woke up at half past four

I’m sitting in the balcony, of my house on the 8th floor