Crying She Comes, Crying Goes Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Bud blossoms to be beauteous rose,
New leaf sprouts blade of grass wordless grows,
Not even the neighbourly thorn knows,
None makes noise, no one a trumpet blows;
But what when a baby comes to world?
She ensures, her cries are fully heard,
And keeps crying all life—
In time bad, good and rife,
Crying oh all she knows,
Crying comes, crying goes.
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Reflections | 09.10.15 |