We called her silent and declared her at peace.
As the clock shifted to a quiet oscillation from the chirping tick tocks,
Screeching horns vanished off the streets,
Blasphemy couldn’t be heard – of course not of birds but humans naturally.
The trade seemed gave the impression of being still- how treacherous!
In tranquility, she knew the trade never stops.
The smell from the kitchen, smoke oozing from the chimneys made her stir in her sleep.
The barking of a dog, noises of the crickets, bats was her lullaby – trying to lure her back to her tranquility
The stillness seemed to be the emanation yet hindered by mankind
Moon was her night lamp, stars- her lingerie, earth- her bed
But, she couldn’t attain the serenity and sleep
The street lamps and the building lights supported by gargantuan electricity left her naked.
No stars to be seen, her night lamp only to be diminished by our lamps.
Yet, we declared her at serenity, closed our eyes, and departed for our dreams.