and in early morning..

And that’s what we are. We’re little stars; little bunches of an innocent hope. Hanging in the air, we’re the drops of a nascent love, and inside us, live our promises, thrive our dreams, and bloom the buds of our aboriginal insights. We’re our little stories, our little fears, our little faiths, our little glory. And when the sun comes up and lights up the days, we’re the sunshine, we are the rays of that immaculate light which paints the oceans in dazzling blue and gives life to all living beings. We’re the flowers of vibrant colors, we’re the tiny ships sailing towards our unknown destinations, we’re the boats of hope, the touch to immortality, the music of creator, the devotion of the earth. We’re bubbles of existence, tiny packets of faith, the parcels of life, the carriers of tranquility. We’re the serendipity of the dawn, the silence of the noon, the radiance of twilight, the mystery of the night. We’re the nomads, the seekers of unknown; we’re the thirst of our souls, the reasons for our lives, little dots in the book of time. We’re the vigor of the waves, the luster of the fires, coolness of evening winds, and violence of the storms. We’re the directions, the doors, the windows to universe. We’re the tears of God. We’re the madness of the lovers, the muse of the poets, the dreams of romantics, the wait of lunatics. We’re the reason and the effect, we’re the streams of the cosmic love, we’re the mirrors to our souls, we’re the keys to our hearts. We’re the pools of tenderness, the bottles of compassion, the vessels of benevolence, the embers of goodwill. We’re the curiosity of a child, the sparkle of his eyes, we’re the serenity emerging out, from the face of a sleeping new born. The crystals of truth, the measure of the sky, the treasure of the seas, we’re the grains of eternal shine. We’re the home to forlorn, a hope to the torn, the direction to the lost, a hand to the foxed. We’re His soul, His patience, His art, We’re nothing but the poetry of the God.