December Sky IV

As the last but one sun of 2011 dawns upon me, I have yet again witnessed a magical december. Maybe now it is magical only coz it is december. I paint another picture on the canvas of this december sky..


As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I listen to two hearts beating a separate cry.
The clouds are talking and the moon is angry, surprising nei?

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
The smallest and mightiest of trees aspire to touch the sky.
The dogs are only staring, seldom to bite.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I sit alone as the suspects of time watch me dream underlie.
The need to stay happy is a bet I’m willing to gamble high.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see joy flying around in the air, promising not to die.
To this prolonged moment, we raise our whiskey and rye.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see the moonlight throwing a half smiling shadow, as I sip my chai.
It’s here that lives a lover, hiding as a thief, escaping the spy.

As I open my eyes under this December sky..
I see an old rock star, fallen from grace, trying to get high.
The reality check was a hard hit, but we hope he’ll do it alrigh’

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
I meet strangers over happy drinks and relish the stupidity and the high five.
Vooohoo, as the chills get into the burning eye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
The stars are traveling on my face, with the breeze, as I eat a humble pie.
A shooting star is the only star, lonely, and wondering kolaveri why?

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
I never slept, just made food and listened to music, captain wise guy.
I see a father dare to live an old dream, young ‘n gritty without a hair dye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
You ride the road more than the house blues can make you jive.
A mission in mind, a task at hand, a prayer in the heart, we’ll try.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
Let’s plug me in and turn you on, till the end of air supply.
I am a sandman and I have to sell them dreams. Aye aye.

Such a peaceful high under the December sky..
When I hear the sound of li’l Aiza’s cry.
Few things are more joyful, than the thought of that picture with generations of 5.