Poetic Prisms On Sunday By Soumyadeep Chakraborty

In my country… O Lord

In my country O lord…
Come what may, the bond between us… will forever stay
The tulips , the roses, the greens
Will forever bloom, tucking down sprouting out
From darkness and gloom.

Here one can simplify the distance
Created on ground
Can gather at same dias
Moving the spokes of ‘us’ all around.
Tucking down, emerging out
From darkness even beneath the ground.

The theme of creation every one sow
On the ground, in their heart
All the way from the sky
From the far region, quarter of stars
To get blinks to rekindle, again
From darkness, to light…
Again.