A blossom will  bloom once again in this stalk;
The tears that spills in darkness and gloom
Will disappear from the  countenance;
The tender sprigs will come out on the boughs
On the tumbleweeds of the desert.
The sun will peep through the dense canopy
Of the clouds when it showers, glittering
With its brilliant sunlight.
The woeful despair in the mind will depart,
As shadows from the darkened screen of the soul.
And a flower will bloom as a finger of the first rains.
The dazzling radiance of the morning sun
Shall commence dancing among the foliage
Where the birds are whistling in glee..
The entrancing melody of the meandering river
In its ripples, presenting a symphony orchestra,
And in its wake glide the toy boats  of the mind as
Happy reminiscences through the  waterway.
Again a flower will blossom  and the silver
Lining on the edge of the clouds will appear,
On the horizons of the  cluttered mind…..

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