The old man was at it again
splashing paint all over the western sky
and like a pre-school child
He was gleefully mixing different colours on the sky board
And the sun was indulging the old man in different light settings
As it waved au revoir to the approaching night.
All around me I could hear the birds
Punching all sorts of melodies into their songs,
as they gave cheer to the Master.
The other animals too lend voice to that applause.
The night creatures came out in hushed whispers
And claimed that moment of truce at sunset,
so that they also could be part of that heavenly exhibition.
I sat on that mountain, and heard myself say,
“Lord, let it not pass me, let me be part of this moment forever”
The old man paused in his final stroke
And as He turned to look at me, the sun softly sighed out its lighting.
But even before it could totally give in to darkness,
The Master brushed in a small dot on that horizon
And if you look carefully, that is me etched on that tapestry.