AHEAD OF WINTER

Burying some long dire nights
Of quivering fingers and lips,
Vapour starved wind and air,
Drying layers of flesh and fair.
Withering plants and creepers,
Without rain and water.

The recession ends,
With the nightingale's song,
In its full throttle plunge,
With the dry throat of nature,
Operates its tiny limbs,
To invite beauty ridden spring.

Somedays are still waiting,
For the budding leaves,
And peeping flowers,
To come up tenderly
With gently caressing breeze,
For love reaping birds to breathe.

A lazy morning sleeps
To win over the summer,
With dating flowers and alluring bees,
Ripen the mind to propose,
With impatient senses
To the queen of seasons.

Paramananda Mahanta -India-