Another Morning Poem by banamala sen

There will not be another morning for me when I will be frolicking around in a little garden,
chirping like a tweeting bird,
Like the birds cheeping right now so early in the morning,
competing full-throated with the Cello-Music playing on my desk.
 
There will not be another morning when I will imbibe the scent of the celestial air,
which brings the smell of Chrysanthemum, gift of Paradise,
which adorns my garden like a glorious queen-bee in its hive,
majestically announcing its supremacy.
 
There will not be another morning when I will pick up the sublime white Siuli flowers from the ground,
and put them in a garland,
Touching them, caressing them like precious gems,
And unknowingly saving them for someone,
Not understanding why.
 
But, there will be a morning when I will create a magical garland using gems and treasures from that past,
which faded away,
but never disappeared.