The cock crows. It is the past of now. Childhood comes back. Still dark but the lights of life are on. Quite a dark sky still. No stars in sight. Everybody clutches secrets on the pretty pillowcase which has the imprint of me. When day will rise, I will smile like a brooch but the heart will continue to cry.

The wind does not slumber. It is never tired. It is hope forever. It does not age. It gives joy to the soul. It is a conductor stirring the plants to dance to the music of nature.

Has life come on its own? The wind says no. There is the mighty hand of a Creator weaving the times and enchanting our lives with daily masterpieces in the sky with His breath.