An old man’s waiting For the sun to rise. He moans At the moon. “Dark night, Pull away. You block me from Beauty.” — Life’s a mentalist.
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Who is the true beauty? The moon or the sun? Debatable! It’s a matter of played tricks of layered lights— light upon light with darkness in between. How would it be not cozy hiding under a cool calm night while patiently welcoming morning? How would it be not fun playing in a warm radiant day while cheerfully welcoming dusk?
Ah…. Why should one be getting old while constantly denying what is….
Salaam….
