If I could fly
What feathers to adorn;
A tint of pearl
A hint of zircon
Fragment of an angel
Sliver of the Devil
Shades of spring
Depths of autumn
Silver of a dandelion
Gold blush of dawn
Intricately woven
As wings of a human
To cross the far horizon!
Time for strawberry mojitos
Mulberry plucked from trees
Palash flowers and tomatoes
Ablaze with red so deep
Lavender teas, minty greens
Brown delight of cold coffees
Sweet fruits of labor, now
Tangy orange preserves
The sun seeping in nectar
To return from slumber
With full force of summer
Until then let me swing
In the silver hammock
Wherever the wind sways
An open book, still unread
As sparrows make acquaintance
Abuzz on the wings of a bee
Sweet fragrance of jasmine
Intoxicated with the power
Of just being alive, blooming
Until the breeze knocks it off
From its cradle and it lies
In the dust whispering goodbyes
To the flurry seeds in the air
From wildflowers in sidewalks
Destined to carry fairytales
From this corner to the next!
*Palash is a sacred tree in the South Asian subcontinent. It has bright red flowers in early spring and hardly any leaves
Blue Pen Strokes 