Shayan Afzal

Saturday morn, whispers soft and sly, 
(i in bed lie, dreams not yet awry) 
yesterday’s rain kissed the earth, shy— 
sun winks her eye, (a tender lullaby).

old Nirvana plays, threads of youth rewind, 
15-20 years slip through the mind 
(a heart’s beat in time, memories intertwined) 
yet, here i find, (the day’s bright design).

the bed, a cradle of past and present merge, 
(i, captured by a nostalgic surge) 
sunrise urges, (but to this melody, i submerge) 
in dreams, we verge (on life’s sweetest verge).

this moment, a canvas, raw and pure, 
(i, within, still, and quietly sure) 
to stay, or explore? (in stillness, we endure) 
a soul’s tour, (in the quiet morning, demure).