'Today,
Zoya,*
I wish to plant
A seed of love mine,
Onto those clouds,
Generous and alive,
As you do
Plant seeds
Into me...
Right there
Into that lighted chamber
Full of water
And oxygen,
Right there
Where
My sapling hope
And tree of dream
You caress,
You trim...'
He told her,
Zoya,
One fine morn,
Sprinkler
In his hand,
Fertiliser too,
Green, organic,
Taking the role of a gardener;
And plants full of flowers
He thought of growing true,
In the garden of Paradise,
His own device,
With moths and butterflies,
With fragrant air,
With music heavenly~
Flowing like a stream,
Plants full of blossoms
Generous and alive,
He thought to grow
Right there
Into the chamber
Of his lighted heart,
Full of water
And oxygen,
Like a gardener,
He thought
He had seen his own self
As a poet
Creating Paradise,
He thought
He had made out
Zoya
In his mortal life.
(* Zoya: meaning ,alive and beautiful)
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