I am not spring
frost thaws eternally
from shallow-rooted fronds
tenuous and unbound
susceptible to wind's constant round
battering the living flat to ground
sodden, smell of decay all around
time is fleeing
these shoulder seasons
with all their restless reasons
yet to unfold in you
sun-soaked glade
I need your rays
to germinate

It is raining outside,
Everything wet,
Soil, tree, terrace, flower ***, gate, wall,,,,
But aridity stifles inside,
Head, heart, hand.....
Like the fruits of silk cotton tree,
Cutlery ruptures thought
Humanist is slaughters on the street.....
But slayer forget that
In extreme dryness
When fruits of dry Cotton silk tree explode
It’s diffuse
Germinate in wet soil
and grow everywhere,
Humanist will emit all over again!

Rains lashing down
The thunderous clouds
Applauding every drop
The clouds have opened up
Their hearts to bring hope
To the parched souls on Earth
The seeds have been lying dormant
It’s time for them to germinate
Covering our garden with greenery
For it will find roots in the soul
Deeply entrenched with belief
That every shower does not wreak havoc
It also ushers new life and hope*













© Amitav (Radiance)