Just like the winds of spring, you pass by the cotton mill.
This spring doesn't bids farewell,
Like any other season,
And the leaves doesn't wither with time.
They only do fall for you everyday, whenever you pass by them.
Starting our glorious days with rays of light in the morning,
And silently continuing into the darkest of nights,
due to the process of rotation, it's unchangeable, and prominent.
But you see, I don't find any changes in your aura.
You possess brilliant hues of life,
And this charm has build an empire in an undiscovered island.
A skiff on which I'm travelling solo,
Sailing on the divine sea,
your honest faith on me,
The almighty, letting me discover your holy island.
You with your endless divinity of high tides, low tides,
Often rise and fall on yourself all along.
Whereas, a heart old of mine, keeps a note of your divinely powers,
by taking an oath of eternal revolution of exploring you.
Here by the seashore I find shimmering pearls inside the seashells.
The seashells are expressing their longings for the pearls,
and I hear them conversing - "I let you live in me, for a thousand decades of world's time. Your existence compel, and spell eternally with my beholding admiration, even though I know, owning you is not my part, but still I will lend you my heart."
And then, I see you standing next to me..
I do remember you as the one,
Making deads back alive,
By lighting sweet candles of hope, and faith.
It's true, which are meant to be praised too.
It becomes hard for me to overlook your view,
when you're standing right infront with masses of few.
Being certain of I,
After these days of battles against the "I",
Observing the wind passing by the woods,
just as you do unknowingly stand there out of the whole maze, as the tallest pine tree, unaware of the shelter, and shade it gives away to others struggling during heavy rainstorm.
These divinely powers are to be appreciated,
which I wish you to keep soulfully, even after death.
Immortal in its own prolong.
Wish I could tell you where my heart belonged,
amidst making you vow to end yourself in mine solace.
Even though I know you are far beyond my trace,
But here I am spinning for your preach, since you have reached.
After a heavy rain, in a stormy dark midnight, where beyond my thoughts I shall find you in my dreams.
I hope to find you soon in my arms
I hope them to find you in my charms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem