We arise from blooms.
Into soil we roil.
Some seat on they eye.
Your eye ever awake.
Never a batting.
The eye of the eternal.
Spiritual chemistry, nay should I say alchemy?
Magic of times, black, white and grey.
Blooms erupt, rainbows leaping across time.
From our dust blooms the lotus.
The times of all times.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Pollen by Hardik Vaidya )
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