THE ADVENTIST OF MONSOON

The advent of striking blossom

All over is rapt under the craving

Of beautiful nature, in your eyes

Dreams are knitting the novel of

My love, in the environs of your

Shadow the countless sprouts

Are unfolding the tender leaves,

On pages of diary an unknown

Fragrance has written the poetry!

Thrived, wild trail goes across

To the misty forest, my emotions

Follow to your consent, to get

Revival on the land of acacia,

Weaverbirds twittering with the

Love song on the branches of

Tiny yellow flowers, in the eastern

Sky colored clouds have made

The enigmatic contemporary art,

I’m searching the sanctuary into

The depth of your eyes, its heard

That a shaman has inhabited

Internal your heart, desires are

Roving as cotton clouds, to get a

Monsoon touch, don’t wipe the

Wet lips, let the drop of passion

To be scattered on the field

Of thirst, long inhaling emotions,

Looks towards your face as the

Full of belief, a planter waits for

Rain, with delicate expectations,

Let allow me to touch the

Butterfly wings, before the spring

Evaporate its beauty and flavor

• SHANTANU SANYAL