A Night and a Morning

Dear Friend of my Heart,

I have been washed so innocently by the morning light, that I feel like saying unimpressive things like: I found myself. All the brilliant masks of complexity aside, it does feel exactly this way, and it started with the morning light, went on to the night, where I found myself in old verses of poetry, or in finding myself I found old verses of poetry. Any way is fine as long as you understand that tears washed these old poems again, nourishing them, and bringing them back to life. Do you know this feeling? Imagine a forgotten seed sprouting in an otherwise barren field, and before you know it, there is a dense dense forest! So full of life, you have to really sing with the night! Really, sing with the night. The tears wouldn’t stop because the forest lives on this stream of deep emotion. There is now a beautiful lake in the heart of the forest! This is the lake that I sat by and sung on and on…

I hear a soft breathing sound, It’s a sweet sensation… on my back
on my back, on my back…

now I have found me the sweet ecstasy, did you hear the grass swaying too?
the breeze said something to the leaves, and the grass swayed in ecstasy,
a window, that’s opening every other day and closing till the night’s truly dark,
I know tomorrow it shall open again
tomorrow two lovers shall gaze at it,
distance separating their hearts no more,
difference separating their hearts no more,
I close my eyes, and surrender to the music of the night,
I close my eyes and surrender my self
a cat goes high on notes meowww, A croaking toad a baritone,
even the engines they’re blending with the song, even the machines,
the insects they hum along, the crickets alone,
random and yet so much with the song,
I open my heart and surrender myself,
to the music of the night…
I open my eyes and a shooting star it falls from the heavens to the earth
I open my eyes… Oh! a shooting star!
Oh shooting star, do you hear me?
Oh shooting star.
..there’ll be someone to listen to the music… until someday there is no more, music of the night or the shooting stars… Oh there will be no shooting stars…
dark dark night!

dark dark night!

dark dark night!

dark dark night!

but until that day, many a voice will sing with you,
and until that day this symphony will be around ,
and until day, so far far away, I will be
I will be around…

One of the songs…

and the morning, well the morning… I will show you…
moonfull dew drops await us in the morning…

and strange creatures are born, from leaves, dew drops and the little light…


and when the sun just shows himself, the magical glowing morning light washes everyone…


leaves start glowing, as if they are made of this beautiful light!


I also happened to see this diligent spider wrap up its web and make a single string out of it! It was simply incredible!


The two gentlemen nod in agreement, as a soft breeze touches them…

two gentlemenlq

My days are full of music and poetry… not all of it is sweet romance… but let us let this letter be this untainted organism. I know you would agree. Eager to hear from you.

Your’s in a soft curiosity,
Prashant Nawani


    1. thank you, Kelley. It’s really beautiful.
      This here is a very different mood, but I have been listening to this quite a lot lately.

      1. I keep reading this one, and every time I do it touches another quiet place

        I do… I do

        Goodness, what a surprise to hear your pen writing on my pages… ok I will listen to that music now, I have a moment of solitude to use my ears properly

      2. I am so happy that you do.
        The most of this lyric is from a poem I wrote almost 10 years ago. It came back to me.

    1. Rose Windows. I was listening to them for the most of this morning. Thanks.
      I don’t mind you jazzing up my comment section at all, but I’ll drop you a mail anyway.
      Aloha, friend of my heart!

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