Musing 39 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Feather flying over the marsh land
Being seized with the harvesting moonlit wonder
Tempering it's maiden freedom in autumnal bliss.
A toddler infant lost not in crowning descend
Nor in weighty precedent heavy,
The bleach of light renders it more transcendent
And opeque with radiating candid glory.
By the dead of night it will travel wide
With vision emerging amid winding swings
Escaping the dusty care of earth.