Poetry

Like the soft-breeze of spring,
like the happiness of being,
like the sun and its sunshine,
a full-moon, candle night, and wine.

She is a storm without warning,
she’s the calm of a magical morning.
Like the blanket in wintery dawn,
like misty crystals on a lush green lawn.

Like a fire in a cold young night,
like a free-bird in its flight
A humdinger, harbinger of light.
An ingenue, not only a beauty external
she is the golden aura, her grace comes from inside.

Like an interstellar inamorata,
like the universe and all that is divine,
She is the start, the journey and destination
She – the moksha, she is the shrine.

She can’t be captured in words,
seen, learnt and written, even if I called her a fairy
She is music
She defies definition, language and dictionary
A magical spell cast upon the world in a spree
She doesn’t only inspire poems,
she is God’s own poetry.

 

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