The Rustle Poem by Moumita .Aich

The Rustle



How fascinating the songs of the wind

Carrying up high the bird on spread wings

listen to the birds chirp,

and listen to the howls that are carried in the wind.



How enchanting to play with the wind

Subdued when watching the wind

the wind grabs the whisper and

carries around the world

only the wind decides where

it will take away the whisper...



The smell of blossoms blows with the wind

I search through the billion

In the field of gold and green

I smell them in my handz,

bt couldnt severalize...

their fragrance is under par.

that amply mesmerized..



A breeze brings along the fragrance of apricot flowers.

I couldnt feel the inner reality

that blows with the wind connotes diversity.

It scrawled the human mystery.

I search to find the birth of the wind

went up finding leaves rustle and bustle like a wing.





One thing in all things have I seen

In the hidden recess of the breaking sound.

I saw the flying vision there

in the deepest silence of sacred wind.

At last, at last, the meaning caught.

It shakes its wondrous plumes of thought

burning away all illusion.

unexpected, we are One and the same..

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