Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Little Yellow Flower on the Window Sill

A gloomy day or a starry night I stare out through glassy eyes
I see and wonder what is the world like beyond the forbidden high
A doubt in my mind keeps popping up once in a while
Is this life good or just an illusion bright

The green meadows in the horizon call me with open arms
The cascading water of the stream sparkles with an enchanting charm
The murmur of the bees around makes a symphony of myriad sounds
The languid desultory donkey has no happiness bounds

As I see the carefree butterflies drifting in the wind
And smell the dulcet fragrance of the spring
I float into the ethereal world of exuberant felicity
Everywhere I see is serendipity and serendipity

Soon the penchant for a free life is engulfed in clouds of fear
Can I embrace the pain of wear and tear
The wind ripping me apart or the donkey munching me
The apathy of the bees or the brutality of the stream

Life is not always an incandescent halcyon
A placid river with resplendent sheen
It can slaughter dreams with a soundless shrill
Let me be a little yellow flower on the window sill