Next Sunday…

✍ Kamal O. Touhami

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Next Sunday,

it glides by like a beam of sunshine,

as if it was always meant to be this way,

as if it was a promise fulfilled.

Next Sunday,

everything falls into place,

the puzzle pieces align perfectly,

and joy fills the air…

And then Next Sunday becomes yesterday,

and then a week ago, and it’s Next Sunday once more.

And it slips away,

ever radiant, ever uplifting,

dancing joyfully within your soul,

invigorating your spirit, brightening your day,

yet always just a step ahead.

I blink, and a thousand Next Sundays soar by,

hair kissed by sunlight,

garments swaying in the gentle breeze,

embracing me like a warm embrace from the heavens.

I breathe in the scent of blooming flowers,

of morning dew,

of laughter,

of serenity,

of bonfires,

of moonlight,

of dreams.

And so it drifts away again,

and I realize that’s simply its essence:

a fleeting marvel, Next Sunday.

so I can’t be anything but glad, but jubilant,

I can only stand here,

embracing the world spinning around me,

feeling the warmth caress my skin,

and eagerly awaiting Next Sunday.

Thank you for reading.

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