Song of the wind chimes and ecstasy 

There are times when i discover the state of ecstasy

When the wind chimes sing

And the travelling clouds baptise the city,

While I sit with a cup of tea and a baked rusk

In an old yet cozy and elegant architectured veranda of the past –

An old Testament to the modern symmetry.

Nostalgic and serene, 

With a wooden swing carved to serve the local history.

With no fuss or noise in the surrounding,

No one red-marking my routine.

A family of trees, green and rich brown 

Shade me from the other houses in front

And the old red wooden and concrete shelters lining the street. 

The rain silences the otherwise hustle,

As the city crawls under black and yellow umbrellas to flee. 

The unarticulated aroma of Tea fill the empty spaces in the air,

And the tranquil smoke of marijuana bless the whole luxurious affair. 

My skin feels loved as the unseen forces caress the exposed,

I lay back and swing, 

And listen to the wind – 

As I close my eyes and inhale the fragrance of peace.

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