The red leaf
disembodied, atrophied
from its verve on its run
struggles the debility
to retain the greenish
which is bygone on the voyage
of nomadic delirious journey.
The inevitable is irreversible
as it is the dictum of the mysticism.
The undefined definition vilify
and scattered on life incoherently.
Though the stubborn red leaf
refuse to succumb to the charred soil.
With an unending gusto it flies
to escape the grave below.
The rhythm of breeze propels the leaf
and help sketching its own canvas.
With its fragile dry brush
it picks carefully its own shades
while kissing the air of desire
as if breathing life to have a rebirth
to rejoice in its own unconquered spirit.
© Maaya Dev Nov 2014
this is a beautiful poem redolent with the fragrance of regeneration, maya.
Santoshji….Thank you for giving such a wonderful comment….I am truly delighted…:-)