I was walking to the train station today, absentmindedly drinking in the morning scenes in my neighbourhood.
The gentle quietness in the air, with many people still snuggled in their beds behind closed doors.
The gentle rays of the sun, still shy behind fluffy clouds, a quiet blessing of light in an early day.
The gentle breathe of morning breeze, taking some early birds to flight and rustling the evergreen leaves of sturdy canopy trees.
The gentle hum of the running train, an almost imperceptible interference to the tranquil silence.
In that quiet and seemingly serene morning, a lonely feeling crept up in me. Somehow, I get a feeling that this gentle morning will soon be lost in time, and I will not be seeing it again. It feels sad that we can walk by this beautiful morning everyday, unaware and untouched by its gentleness, until the day we lose it for good.
It's such a random feeling for such a pleasant day, but it is a lonely kind of gentleness.
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