Transition

Like the day makes way for the night,

the way the seasons seamlessly transition into the next,

Like hate transforming into love,

midnight is among the best moments of life,

when most of the ideas flash into my mind.

Halfway between sleep and wakefulness,

the womb of thought at its fertile best.

Whilst I lie waiting for sleep to strike,

the mind comes up with its greatest creations.

Maybe this is my blessing,

To know how dreams are made up.

P.S. : This is probably my first poem. Suggestions and comments welcome.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s