In the
falling rains,
a gulmohar blooms
into my moody skies,
bleeding its red grief
across the white layers
of some cloudy retreats
swathing memories of
cerise sun-stains
of all those
across the white layers
of some cloudy retreats
swathing memories of
cerise sun-stains
of all those
days past
In the
In the
rain-swept
blossoms, I see the
splendour of a new
spring, holding promise
for many a skies, across
and beyond the hills
that borders my
tiny world
here...
