I behold in the distant sky
A crescent colorless
Move adrift disinterested
Amidst clouds- mindless
The blooms that wait to blossom out
Are halfway asleep
The sunrise only would define
The dreams they hold within
The songs that tend to rise up
In the shadows of the leaves
Fail to reason with the demand
Of the slow passing breeze
The window this- an open spot
To watch Nature's gist
The mind is a far bigger port
To transmit, transform, edit
April 6,2023
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem