With the touch of spring,

It merrily rings,

Winter is over and summer is closer.


Where trees go bald,

As the leaves fall,

And where hopes arrive in the buds to blossom,

Is when the old vanishes, and the new horizons.


Boulevards grin and orchards smile,

Scintillating and sparkling as the new season arrives,

And that caresses my mind to beguile,

Is when I pack my woolens,

To sprinkle in the spring and drench in the summer.


And in between the freeze and the heat,

It appears to be a moment of respite,

A moment of revive,

From the unnerving winters,

To the scorch of summers.


And as I walk along the lush green gardens,

Under those barren trees,

I can sense how nature,

Undresses and then dresses anew,

To create another view.


Truly, spring happens to be the reminder of times,

That sheds the past and imbibes new lines,

That discards the old and acquires the new,

To complete the natures annual review.

By Kamlesh Tripathi


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