Living in Heaven
I wake up to the melodies of the world
To the soft music on the air
To the giggles of a small girl
To the songs of the cuckoos
To the soft sound of the sitar and violin
I wake up to the magic of the sights
To amaze at the daring display on the eastern sky
To see me in my lover’s eyes
To sip the vibrant color of the murals and frescos
To marvel at the tulips with so much to show
To feel the loftiness of each word in a poem
I wake up to the magic of the smell
Of the evening roses, of primroses
Of the hot spicy dishes
To her enticing aroma near by
To the scented fresh air of the burning incense
I wake up to the magic of her touch
To the warmth of the monsoon rain drops
To the closeness of the melting snow flakes on me
To the snuggle of my baby girl
To the kiss of the spring breeze
Alas
Great men and birds are known
Only after they are gone.
((*.*))
June 11, 2000
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