The sunlight beams through the window every morning.
I feel its warmth on my sleepy face; a kiss of love and frolic.
With my eyes still closed I let the light warm up my skin.
And the occasional shade, giving me a moments in frigid.
Like a child, the sun plays peek-a-boo with me, every morn.
The leaves of a tree hanging in front of my window, dancing.
Making a random rhythm in their movements, as they play.
The game of light and dark; the game of shining and shading.
The silent lover across the street joins in, in this morning play.
Reflecting the sunlight on the mirror and gleaming up daily.
I look at her and she at me, as she smiles and curls her hair.
The leaves still playing with me, hiding her beauty stochastically.
And then the clouds from the north visit, with its winds of cold.
The leaves play their game, ignorant that the sunshine is gone.
The window lover across the street doesn’t show up that day.
As gloom looms large on me, depressed by this shade all along.
And then the springs arrive, with the breeze still chill and cold.
But the clouds now join in at this game, with the solitary sun.
As the leaves go greener, with renewed enthusiasm and thrill.
And the window lover is up early, with her smile and mirror fun.
Life is much like this game, sometimes there is light and then grey.
There are days of happiness and bliss, and some distress and stress.
But there wouldn’t be happiness if sadness is long gone and dead.
As I wouldn’t have known my lover, if not for this shine and shade.
© Manish Ranjan, 2015