By Neelisha Barfa
I have always cherished the garden
at the end of the long river
that beams with joy when
embraced by the first rays of the sun.
Merry grasses and wise old trees,
Mischievous bushes and humming bees,
Swaying flowers and calm breeze,
Soft emerald whistles and loud amber glees.
Every winter, a bittersweet farewell awaits me,
I am not sad but my heart feels heavy and
the river whispers, “Don’t stay, depart and rest,
this is always your home, you’re not a guest.”
And winter lasted because we were hopeful
the pink skies will fade all the greys, and
now flowers have grown from the embers,
The river splashes and rolls, because it always remembers.
I listen to the fresh green silence
before the arrival of a dearest,
At last, I am home and I can hear
the spring knocking at my door.
By Neelisha Barfa
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