For most people, weekends are a pause. For a senior content writer, they are something more complex. A negotiation between rest and unfinished thoughts. When your weekdays are filled with keywords, search intent, deadlines, and the constant pressure to perform, your mind doesn’t simply switch off on a Saturday morning. It slows down unevenly. It wanders. It observes. And somewhere between a cup of tea, a half-written poem, and the silence you didn’t know you needed, you begin to return to yourself.
This weekend’s poem is not just about a day of leisure.
It’s about what happens when the mind steps away from structure and remembers how to feel again. Hope you will love the poem.
Weekend Poem – A Quiet Rejuvenation
May first flew
like an airplane
Saturday burned
like a space rocket.
And I wish
Just tomorrow
May Sunday change colors
And move like a tortoise
Strangely
I wait for Monday
not for something to change overnight
But to track the numbers
and see my dopamine rise for a day.
Amidst all the noise
My quiet world is safe.
Books waiting by the window
Poems blooming under the fan
a mild diet,
buttermilk, cucumber salad
cooling the angry sun.
The sambar we made,
spinach poriyal
tastes like first monsoon rain.
The shower, nail cut, and skin care
helping Amma and Appa
saving the little rat from Leo
every little moment between breaths
went on like a breeze.
The steam from my tea freezes
A red Chambakka falls from a mango tree
My eyes climb the branches
To catch the thief.
A Rufous Treepie smiles mischievously.
The crane
kept watching us from the wall
like a grandmom –
Its eyes are nonchalant
Like it’s not a miracle to get shocked.
What more do I need to pass a sunny day?
It’s like a carnival
To have a 3-day leave
Like borrowing happiness from a bank.
by
Shalini Samuel
