And the sun is stealthily creeping-up from behind the mountains to the right.
I wake-up when it’s pitch black.
It’s blacker than black, a carbon sort of black.
A black alleviated here and there by faded lemony yellowish electric lights.
I wake-up when it’s pitch black,
My senses tempered by the absence of light,
My eyes conjecturing the contours of my surroundings.
There is something comforting by this void,
Something interiorized that merges with the outside
And patiently waits.
As time moves slowly, the blackness lingers,
Whispering a tender lullaby
To the endless shades of shadows dancing in the corners of my eyes.
I see. All of a sudden, I raise my head and I see… a blue.
It’s a dark almost black blue but it stands tall nonetheless in its blueness.
It transpires, all encompassing, conquering valiantly the darkest shades of dusk.
The blue rapidly turns into blues,
United, they creep over the land
And spread to the sky,
The sparkle of a star slowly shimmers out.
Bikfaya – Wednesday, September 4th 2019