Fleeting thoughts

There is heaviness in my heart,

a lump in my throat,

Tears rush to the drooping eyelids,

A child is scared when I look…

Neither the gentleness of the breeze,

nor the songs of the sleepy birds,

brighten my spirits and lift my mood.

Depression threatens and engulfs.

Suddenly,

I see the breeze trying in vain,

to ruffle her wet hair,

She is dreaming, lost in a world.

Lost to the onlooker – faraway in a fantastic world.

Her lips flutter like the wings of a

weak bird trying to fly high.

Her face glows when she smiles.

Beauty envelops and lifts the dying spirits.