In the heart of wilderness-----
In the heart of wilderness,
there is a feeble voice,
Voice of thimbles and thistles
by the scented jasmine
and rose buds sprouting
here and there, sprawling
dandelions, gauzy covers
protecting them until blown
by the mighty winds ,
when they sweep, when they
subside they themselves know not,
memory grappling the fresh pages
in my mind’s eye,
fresh pages of what?
Pages of anything that is good,
the bouquet in plastic cover
slowly loosing its fresh charm,
yet the giver and the occasion
live and relive in memory
adding verdure to wilderness,
my search goes on.
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