THE SPRING

Out of blocked and piled rainwater of emotions of days,

You began to flow downwards in to my valley of heart.

I went on to add the tributaries of my emotions,

Trusting your sources to be pure, pious, and perennial.

We went on flowing in luscious rhyme and rhythm,

In unison forsaking our individual entity.

Now that the stream takes the shape of a vast river of love,

The fear of breaking the banks creeps into your mind.

You want to control her flow and my tributaries,

That too by putting a barrage of sand of restrictions.

But how is it possible to stop the entry of rainwater in my flow?

Will it not be tough for you contend your secretions within your heart?

Will it not overflow the banks of our mind and devastate our peace?

Will it not be wise to use the flow for better vegetation, greater achievements?

Love and spring cannot be blocked by anything,

 Once they originate and begin to flow.