The epiphany in the morning glory,

 Pronounced in the eastern sky,

Lapping the new born sun,

The rose bud that smiles to unwrap

At the gentle kiss of elegant breeze,

And the fresh fluttering of young birds

Darting towards the western sky,

Scoffs but at the long spent

Burnt night with ashes

 Of anxieties and fears,

Smearing the white and supple pillows.

————- Dr. Fathema Begum