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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