Waking up this morning, it occurred to me
I am three days away from what I can see
The day when perhaps I can put down those
Multi-coloured pens of life to relax and doze
Closing my eyes, I listen to the shadow of nightingales
Wishing this time, perhaps I can embrace this Sunday?
Suddenly I remembered, there is another pen to pick
So many different letters, yet pending on my nib
Long letters for all of them, letters not only for me
Letters floating in my head, topics at night that I see
As I close my eyes listening to the shadow of nightingales
I wish, perhaps this time I can embrace this Sunday?
As I ready myself for tonight’s dinner of sushi in a bento
I longed for homemade lunches and warm impromptus
Where we used to sit closer, snuggle, and fight for so long
We still had the time of our lives, listening to tuneless songs
Now I close my eyes and listen to the shadow of nightingales
I wish so hard, perhaps this time I can embrace this Sunday.
It is Summer now, but I remember it was Summer then too
What I am now is so different as I question, ‘that was who?’
It is just like the time that clock showed the same back then
Yet changing, in essence, its existence with every moment
And when I close my eyes listening to the shadow of nightingales
I still wish perhaps this time I can really embrace this Sunday.
Another day has gone, and so many more will pass by
I remind myself I have even stopped saying simple Hi!
Even when I embrace everything and everyone to the ‘T’
Amidst all, I seem to recall, I end up losing what I call ‘me’
As I try to close my eyes listening to the shadow of nightingales
I wish perhaps this time I will be able to embrace this Sunday.
This sand of ‘tick-tock’ is slipping fast from fingers
That margin of error each day is reduced further
We need to make choices for we are left with very little
It will probably leave you and me at the end so brittle
Why not try to close our eyes and listen to nightingales?
Perhaps this time we all really can embrace our Sundays