If the old grey crescent moon comes peeping to your window, please let it know that I’ve left.
I have waited too long in search of Silver.
If someday we happen to meet again, you will know how long I’ve waited. Long till my Silver turned to Grey. And on moist mornings, when you thought the White replaced all. It was only me in hurry-scurry tucking away your Grey. Lest you find them.
I’ve seen you in colors. As Red melted into White crafting Pink, I’ve seen you softer. Tender. And as Sapphire blended into Black, I’ve feared you.
From darks to lights. I’ve seen you through each one of them. In colors. Or pallid. Of yesteryears and today.
And I’ve loved you through each one of them.
Through Rusted earth and fiery Gold.
In my own rustic way.
