Sunrise in my Tea-cup

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Sunrise in my tea-cup,
Its vivid pink tinting the pastel brown,
A tranquil wisp of steam curling up,
Shimmering and threatning to drown.

A soothing stillness sinks in,
As I lean against the window pane,
Watching the dark winding lane,
With its puffing jogger & his aching shin.

Then, I grow afraid -to breathe ,
Lest this magic should cease!
Gingerly, my fingers shift the cup a little,
Making barely a ripple.

I don't know for how long I stand there,
With the tea in my hands growing cold,
As my heart sighs with the wind & lays bare,
I watch my soul gently unfold.

My watch ticks in, pulling me back with a jerk,
Letting this bizarre spell vaporize,
I hastily drain my cup with its sunrise,
And rush to work.

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