As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book |
Evolution of Love Part 2 |
The dust grows on the windowsill Gradually the dust grows on the windowsill Looking at people going by in the street as it lays still Hurried steps to no where You may ask why so but then why they dwell the same path every day Only to return again the same day or perhaps the day next Their faces showing myriad emotions Some worried, some doubtful, some so determined, happy or sad Albeit bound by a common theme of restlessness Whereas the dust keeps settling down So calm and restful, no hurry, no qualms Cohesively keeping all parts together in one whole As someone deep in meditation unaware and inhibited of what the future holds The man feeling restless even inside the room wants to open the window Not even thinking for a moment how it will unsettle the dust The window opens and in comes a gush of wind The dust goes disarray, all particles separated from the whole Still unperturbed, the dust grows on the windowsill Calm, collected both inside and out Looking at people going by in the street as it lays still Hurried steps to nowhere… |