By Swapnaja Mohite
A cloud, like a large teardrop,
Hangs precariously
On the eyelids of
The parched earth.
Yellow leaves
Rustle just to fall
Noiselessly,
And the wind
Just whispers by,
And shakes
The thousand green dreams
Before my eyes.
A bird flutters its wings,
And a soft feather
Rushes to meet
The thirsty earth.
And I see a gentle snowflake
Caressing the earth-
And in those thousand dreamy eyes,
The mirage has just begun…!!!