The spring pluck

 

Overnight rains have doused softly

The overflowing dazzle of summers

On the tepid shores of callous spring

Moderation, often felt like insensitivity ,

Finds no reason to explain his neutral ways

Deep inside he is both warm and frigid

Which evolves often as a dull spring

But then he has buds and flowers to speak

To the one who waits long enough with hope

Bestowed with bright petals worth the wait

The pluck on the index of nascent affluence

Pulls the roots a little towards the sky

To follow the vanishing dreams that rush

Only to leave behind their traces in a rainbow

When the sun shines after the overnight rains.

Rishikesh

09.04 hrs

2188

11.3.25