I am the
Springtime of leaves
And song of brunt
Meadows brief
Where the water arms
The earth�s ploughed
Scars
Mingling with
Moon�s soft crust.
Capricious images
Of nursling plunders
Shrouded to announce
To the world at large
Its blunders
And crystallization
Of amorphous mass
Of feelings & sensations
Into significant forms
In a universe of values
Echoes of inner stance.
I am the
Spring sap of the leaves
And song of meadows brief
Scars of earth
Peeled and ploughed
With bloods of
Moon�s dried crust.
I am the visibility of the day
I am the invisibility of the night
I am the spring sap of the leaves
And the echoes of winter�s last rites.
