Reaping this afternoon ,she sings myriad songs
Her heart ,it was brighter than many a joyous throng
With her sickle,she could win a moderate war
Her spirit,it was too jocund to find torpor
The mountains stood steadily to hear what she sings
The vale ,it was empty with her in its wings
The clouds they gathered to not miss this view
All nature surrounded to the songs she knew
She reaped and reaped, as it was her day
Challenging the view ,the world had her way
The birds they joined as voices amateur
Lakes,creeks and rivers could not stand the lure
I hear her songs on a pensive mood
Her joy had glutted whatever life could spew
The more I see life,the more I know
Each song ,it is stronger than my heart’s window.
Gaurav Chakrabarti 