Sunday, August 5, 2018


The roof.
Just a ceiling on four walls.
Underneath which we breathe.
We love. We laugh. We cry.
This chirpy living, this zest,
converts the brick and mortar
into a heaven called home.
And it is this
symphony of life,
complete in itself,
that pours like elixir
and rattles like raindrops
on the canopy,
underneath which we breathe.
The roof.
First thing in sight at sunrise,
the last one before we drift away in dreams.
Etched to perfection in heart.
Secure semblance to mind.
A yearning retreat for wandering feet.
This all and much more,
beneath the shelter of roof.

Linking with Thin Spiral Notebook : 100 word challenge : roof

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.