Essence
Harvest Of Wait
Darts of eyes, all praise, no doubt, defy.
Simmering heart remain benumb in joy.
Fragrance of my dear is also mixed with the breeze.
That is why this dust got wings on lease.
Lilting feet, boundless ecstasy, whispering lyrics refined.
This is how sometimes joy may be defined.
Away from mirage of joy is life of dispassion.
Where eyes irrigate the harvest of wait.
Though everyone is worked to reflect world.
But glance of lover enhances the price of beloved.
State of wait is for prayers for union.
Garden of soul, on bloom for long, remain.
Union brings spring for a short while.
Lips has to quiver, for long, in wait of cup divine.
Even clouds has to cry and weep in wait to meet ocean.
