I woke up to the sound of alarm.
Knotting my brows, I wonder.
How? I did not set time.
Gone are the days when
I jumped out of bed
to oversee the chores.
I am well past the days
of hurry and worry, accustomed
to relaxation, I rub my eyes.
The shrill sound resonates.
I go back to the old days hectic
when I roamed like an eccentric.
The cry of my new born,
the whimper of the middle one,
and the scramble of my eldest,
the noise in the kitchen
the hooting of the school bus
keep alive my madness,
It is all gone,as I
recline in my bed, listening
to the tweets of birds.
Meenas Poems 