THE RHYTHM OF THE BUTTERFLY Contemporary Poetry Anthology by Santosh Kumar Biswa
To Doctor Seasons Astir in the elevation, crystals seem dim, Trees faded overhaul by dejected winter, The tides intensified with its accretive ire, The space, the tabby on its very nature. Tepid wind replaced around like the tabasco, There isn't choice to cope up any longer. Timid the soil, gander thwarting so long Timidity within the displaced source. Who are to be christened or to be blamed? Shall we to those rippled climates or men? The greediness that arises for comfort, And senseless acts, are they to be faulted? Before the dirt immerses let us hook on it; Being devout to the one who feeds all, To add colors to those fading foundations And for gentleness putting more of it.
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