How far will fall the ‘lion’s tooth’
Ferried by the feathers of nonchalance
Any tilth be soil the spore of truth
Buds beyond the sin of senescence!
Irish daisy I see in shrubbery
And begrudge beauty’s metaphor
Whilst I wait for Maker’s alchemy
Which farms in her heart furry dreams galore!
Born in spring to scatter in fall
Untethered hopes that sway and stray…
On a pilgrimage o’er zephyr and squall
Beyond bond of faith and fear’s melee!
Not for the glory of zenith of sky
But the wanderlust destiny decreed
To live the truth not die a lie
How I Long To Be A Dandelion Seed!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra