By: Kousik Adhikari

I walked into the garden
Light decorated the offspring of light,
So many flowers inexperienced
Before the first rain, first fraud,
Innocent breeze playing magic,
Enchanting every live, every leave,
But some moths waiting for first dream,
Patiently perching slow forked tongue
Warning the light recklessly,
Flowers have not still learned
The secret art of walking!
Clinging desperately
At you like children
At their mother’s breasts,
Before the moths took their flight,
I know you will be there
For the flowers of your garden.