The keen longing for a paradise,
maybe, a dream or a pet always
but the sky alone is incapable and helpless
to germinate even a tiny flower plant.
A paradise – a luminous and tumultuous garden,
full of blissful flowers and feathery singers –
exhibiting the colours and beauties of fresh life –
and singing the triumph of life as the best.
Paradise – assumed already as a belonging
of life-less heaven – a world of fantasy
but well appreciated and valued
only in the real world of blood and sweat,
well co-operated by open hands and hearts,
germinated on no-where other than the land –
Nurtured, enjoyed and glorified by the mortals
adding the sky to the land—fantasy to the reality
for a spontaneous intercourse – quite significant
for blooming a life in the paradise
and a sweet smile on the thirsty lips
as a consolation – bestowed upon by mother-nature
against the pains and strains of tough reality.
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