To the flower that has bloomed in my garden
I asked . . .. do you smile all the time?
The flower stood silent listening to the song
The song that the breeze whispered in its ears
It danced and swayed in beautiful harmony
And I stood besides it and watched its magic
I had the vibrant air all around me
Like an electric commotion that has filled the air
I asked the flower, do you dance all the time?
And the flower stood in silence gazing at me
Its redness was deeper than red and its color more colorful
Its brightness brighter than the light
I waited in expectation for the flower to speak
And its fragrance filled my heart
I silently let the intoxication deluge me
And wondered what this melancholy is?
What a fool, melancholy how could it be?
It was love that had spurred out
It was magic of silence that spoke to me
That words, can never live up to
We look for answers to all the questions
In vein, some answers don’t exist
Let them just speak to you
In their silent melancholy . . . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment