When the mellow sun decides
To come up on the faint horizon
Of my village, come as
The earliest light to my house.
And as the early birds go in
Search of their songs and
The butterflies in search of
Colors, come as
The first signs hope when
Mind is still stuck in haze.
Come in as cool breeze if
You wish or swishing wind that
Scatters away all the dust.
Come as a heavy downpour or
The easy shudder that's
Transferred to the leaves.
Come as an omen, come as
Dewdrop or a prayer.
As long as there's no love that
Holds you- come, come.