Handing over

The time when daylight says its goodbye and night slowly and gradually wakes up from her sleep is quite melancholic. All around the sky the colors dance as if they don't know who they are. They don't even care. All they know is they are spreading over each other. They are unsure if they like it or not. They don't feel a sense of control. There are questions, indeed. But they don't have answers. Colors don't know if they want to know the answers. They are eager to meet each other. Are they finding themselves or losing. Surely, they are not in control. They run so that they can see everything and everyone. Can they make it?

Some Sufi poet is singing a song. A song with no words, no music, no composition, no topic. It's touching. The poet is lost like a small lifeboat in an atlantic storm. The Sufi continues to sing. The presence of the divine can be sensed  from the Sufi's demeanor. The song is still direction less. The divine is surely there. No one knows where. Can the song reach it. Now, the Sufi is twirling around trying to locate the connection. Initially, it seems like there are immense efforts involved. Soon, it seems the twirling continues as if accepting the movement and the confusion.

The night is stretching its arms. It looks well rested. It's telling the daylight to go. It's saying it's late. Now is night. The daylight is lingering back for a while. It's as if the work is done but some finishing checks need to conducted before the daylight ends its shift. Night is arranging her desk as the daylight clears its. They exchange information and night takes over the control. The daylight has switched off that big lamp it likes. Night switches on the sweet and tender tiny lights it feels comfortable for work. Night is more decorative about its work. After basic arrangements of decreasing the temperature of the air conditioner, it feels good. It has a lot of work to do. The daylight had mentioned about some dreamy projects and lullaby assignments as usual. The daylight has also left some work pending. The night needs to complete its collaborative projects with the daylight. It needs to mark some suggestions and also forward any queries it has to the daylight. Night starts work. After all, the exchange is over. The daylight has left, and night has taken the control over.

The Sufi has decided to continue singing its silent song.

The colors are hugging so close and tight, it seems they are one.

The questions rest solving, resolving, questioning, accepting themselves.

The divine is with the divine.