A whimsical thought,
Changing into a determined stature,
Putting all behind,
I went on towards.
A swirl of clouds,
A flux of faces,
The change of wind,
And that of water.
A shattered expectation,
And a rekindled hope,
“Adjusting is a chore,
A chore I am willing to do.”
Thoughts of words,
Dance within me,
As I look through my eyes,
And see the beauty.
The cacophony and the euphony,
All mixing up in coherence,
Forming a combo unlike any others,
Have me caught inside it.
July 11, 2018