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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