by Arun Achudh
Far above, out of sight,
On the pathways of heaven, we call- blue sky;
Lies a coverlet who s the mother of snow,
In White so pure, like a dew on a meadow;
On a time when the heaven s seeing celebrations,
With beats and bass thrown down to ground;
Making the world as dark as night,
Distributing messages of happiness to come;
Exaggerated- the mother on this precious time,
It’s the time since her daughter had shown her first smile;
Comes down the girl form her mother cloud,
With an intend to meet a special one;
Cooling down all the crystals of light,
Nearing the doorways of our living town;
Just then the sun sees her coming down,
And Peeps her with a warm beamed ray;
At sun she stared a smile, scattering-
Seven colors of spectrum all the way.
Further down she goes, meeting the trees,
Her pleasing smile makes the breeze- freeze.
Birds at rest, town silent, she seems to get dull-
And her face now lessens to gleam.
Bearing the pain she travels down,
Jus then her eyes sees the special one around.
She turns around to see her back,
Her Brothers and sisters are all on their way.
She touches the one she was longing for,
HUSH…came the sound as all arrived.
That purest form made that special one whirl,
It’s none other than, you. Oh girl!
You are the purest gift on this lonely land,
Oh..! My girl. That’s all my thoughts; and that’s all I can!