The Morning Mist: A Poem by Mousumee Baruah
After autumn
fall, when night jasmine adorned the paths along with bulbs of lilies.
When the wind
rustles with the leaves, crumpled and crunchies.
Wafting fragrance
to faraway valleys.
She appears to
swaddle in a thick veil.
And the blazing
star loves her strength and the way she prevails.
He loves her
more, when she asserts, she is not delicate or frail.
And they play
hide and seek.
He pierced
through her veil and stealthily sneaks.
But gradually
turn pale with every dawn and weather turning bleak.
He likes tough
contenders.
And when Santa
Claus comes with goodies in his sleigh and reindeer.
He declares a
complete surrender.
Bowing down to
somebody as a token of appreciation, giving space, uplifting others doesn't
make anyone inferior.
It in fact raises
one's stature and makes one superior.
For philanthropic
heart, everyone is dearer
And when Robin
sings with sakura blossoming in the
sanctuaries
She melts in love and retreats, with sweet memories
With a heart full
of gratitude for the apricity of the star, promises to come back again
triumphing vagaries.
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