Spring

In my dream

The yellow colour embraced you

Caressed you with green vermillion buds and flowers

Spread from the top to the bottom, of my name

Written on you in violet alphabets

That cursively creep around your softness

In May magnificence

 

That can be any moment

When your April touch beckons the blood to bloom

A desert flower, a wild rose on

The thousand thorns of wilderness

Surely not prompted by a man-made Valentine's day

That drowns love's dream in a ritual

Can't we paint the arrival of Spring

With a quiet brush?

 

With the hues of an unfulfilled dream?

Celebrating it again

And again on the canvas of Spring

 

 

Then, in its excitement

Of touching a soft leaf

Its footsteps will be heard

In the forsaken gardens of expectations.

 

 

Get ready with a quiet rush

You are the colour, the canvas and the brush.

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