Little Things


The lure of the evening breeze
It’s slow tap against the wooden doors
Pushing mildly aside, the hung curtains
To make way into my room at ease.

Wasn’t that all it took
To make me desert my cozy bed
Trespassing my mom’s carefully laid gardens
And to the glowing setting skies, I paid an admiring look.

Walking around, no care except the windy cold
Music playing, as if in another realm
Watching flowers bloom in alluring competition
Whose petals, shall my attention grab hold

Ending up on a stone bench, not far away
I sat cross-legged, in reluctance to return inside
Wanting to watch clouds manifest into stars
And bid goodbye as the birds flew their way

No thoughts, no cacophony, not a single bother
Blanketed in the light of the rising moon
As darkness fell through like a velvet screen
I knew, this wasn’t an evening like every other.

For often we hold back our own selves
From smiles, from little sparks of indulgence
Only to keep wilting in monotony
And regrets filling our emotional shelves!

Venture out, beyond the iron-fist
Of the shackles you’ve bound yourselves with
For this day or night, will never return
Nor will the flower, the butterfly or the beautiful mist!

— K. Rangashree