Tapestry

Twilight seeps through a tapestry of a day that strode,

Descending with the pulse of hearts in a beaten road,

Where feet scribe sagas spun with plots self written,

And light dims itself at the close of day with an earth smitten,

Smog and dreams go up in a puff as the sun goes down,

A noisy metropolis will soon transform into a slumbering town,

Voices to hush down in spaces of their own comfort zone,

Imparting unheard lessons where a mind reiterates in a monotone,

As mute as they seem so high above the din,

Here is life with rustle of leaves breathing in a foliage beyond sin,

A witness that takes the heat and dust of a race,

Home to songbirds that return having left songs in skies with no trace.