Saving grace!

And she, lost in her tremulous monotony,

Walking across the crowded street,

Taking one calculated step after another,

Heard a hearty chuckle from a bench,

fixed under an old oak tree.

She stopped in her tracks and turned around,

To see where it had come from,

Bothered not because it was too loud,

But more bewildered at the genuineness of it.

She saw a ghost of a smile, from the corner of her eye,

That made her question the banality of her own existence,

And made her think of the metronome beat,

That she always used to put herself to sleep.

There was something about that smile she thought,

Something she couldn’t really spell out,

But she knew it brought her peace,

And unravelled a pleasantness, she hadn’t known to exist.

That laughter, virtuous and pure,

Although it didn’t have a face,

Etching hieroglyphs on her old soul mind,

That smile, that damn smile, she knew , would be her saving grace.