[image error]
Peach flowers gazed downwards shyly
through the green boughs dripping light –
fluorescent and bright, dazzling my sight;
stringing leaves in varied hued green light.
Dashes of lavender on the crust of a tree
that tenderly canopied the peach flowers –
were as if cajoling them on to a bridal bed
that was draped in well-manicured grass.
Large clouds seeming like parental masks
threatening to burst their shadowy forms –
on virginal flowers making love on a lawn:
by drowning their uninhibited true thirst.
As I stood watching this drama unfolding –
that nature laid out for me to partake in:
strong rays of sun as if arch lights, flashed,
on the bullying clouds, lining them in silver.
PS: This is in Shanti Niketan, at Rabindranath Tagore’s residence/museum…the play of clouds and sun was so fascinating, I wrote this spontaneously. 