The Morning Sky

Bathed in the morning light,
Love peeps through simple things,
In her worn-out slippers gazing from the floor,
The pink pigeon claws clutching at the dimming streetlights,
Balding heads with long white strands,
Walking briskly down the wet tarmac,
The quietness of the morning and the cacophony,
The many shades of grey like grazing land in the sky,
The first waking, snaking thought of Him and beyond,
And of the earthly love taking a divine hue,
In the early morning light, man, woman, concrete everything, everyone is alive.

Photo courtesy - The Song Of The Sufi Masroof