"Morning Musings"

As the artic air serenades the dream chamber, 

the winded hand knocks me up from deep slumber.

The monotony begins.

While half of the world is still asleep, my day starts with a script. 

I breathe the same air

I see the same color.

I embrace the same wind.

I play the same music.

I rewind the same memories.

Inside the capsule of time and space, the stop and go connive to replay the reiterative drama.

Each heavy step, then and again, traces the harrowing melancholy of the passage.

Albert Camus is right: "the workman of today works every day in his life at the same tasks, and this fate is no less absurd."

The day commences.

The day falls.

The cycle continues.

Although I know exactly what to do, I know nothing of what to accomplish.

Everything remains the same and yet I feel lost between the now and the morrow.

02.08.2019

9:37 PM