Spring As A Flower

The trunk of the tree may be wrinkled ugly with scars The lonely bench on that I used to sit with someone, Humans are affected by their hates and busy in wars, The bench is waiting to give room for love to anyone. Why the leaves usually green here look shocking red My filtered love is still pouring down drops after drops You think I am not alive and in my grave I am dead, You can see the tree but your reach is not on the tops, I regularly drop down my colorful fragrant flowers From my grave I have sprung as a tall dense tree, Like clouds from the sea that bring the showers, Union of the narrow streams into a river you see. No more small having joined others I am now tall, A tree we opted and a selfish human body we rejected Its branches, its leaves, its fruits are open to the all. Whatever a human body rejects by us it is accepted, Come on the vacant bench of love and coexistence, If you want to rise form below the tons of clay, To a lighted place of immortality, peace and patience, Spring as a flower in a nice and pleasant sunny day,