тАМ Wait for spring
I am parched where ,
I am not able to grow any seed.
O mother ! your soil in me not let the throne
to sprout.
For how long I have to wait to
open up with my possibility
to blossom and grow life.
Knowing well but still wonder ,
Plough is hardwork
Intellect is seed.
emotion is the sweetness ,
seeds longs so they be the life .
But where do i find fertility?
Or do i have to choose and check
which of the seeds grow ?
I have burn in summer failure and
winter cold solitude.
now I am soaked , soft and cool .
in compassion of rain.
Waiting for spring to sprout in me.
so to know if I am young mountain
or fallow land .
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