The sprig that stays green in otherwise b&W canopy...
This photo shot by my nephew, Vijay Soundararajan @ Seattle, Washington... Beautiful ice clad hills and one green little sprig that escaped the snow, begged me to write a poetry...
Love emanating from two little hearts,
Desire emanating from two great bodies,
Hatred influenced by a broken heart,
Death influenced by a rebelling soul...
Be it! the little green sprig,
Be it! the massive mountain chest,
Be it! the you; who observes the truth,
Whoa! nature shows us no proof...
White fluffy snow, when influenced by mountains,
Turns as hard as flint, though an ephimeral stint...
Hard flinty snow, when influenced by the Sun,
Turns in to a glaciers and drum the rock and dent...
This little sprig, refuse to bend,
With undaunted, fiery rebellion,
Neither losing its colour,
nor the space it stands,
Those little roots minute,
Ready to fend itself in those gusts...
Every joy has its reasons,
Every sadness has its reasons,
Exaggerated when held close,
Dismissed when heart forces.
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