Reborn in spring' is a story of a lover who is not ready to give upon his lost love. Through the seasons, through the colors he will find his love.
Some sheets of the mist yet
to be dispersed, last dew drops yet to be fallen
and receding winter is yet to send the final
shivers down his spine.
Carrying colors all dry and canvas all frozen he
wishes to paint his own spring with his fingers
turned numb and brittle, a spring one of its kind.
Dragging some blue down the snow laden
mountains, he painted the river fresh and clear,
flowing and splashing a symphony
Blowing some brown and shades of green, he
would paint the forests lush with bright golden
butterflies flying beyond the space,
flying beyond the time.
To bring about the mornings, he who kept
yellow deep in his pockets throughout the winters,
painted the sun a little warmer and with
a brighter shine.
Sprinkling some more glitters around in the
clear sky over a night he would not sleep, he
painted the moon full, cold and tinged red hot
with some burning wine.
And to wipe the colors off his fingers, he would
paint her, his love, into an evening, calm after the chaos,
vaporized dark brown with some coffee,
smooth and fine.
Born in autumn, bleak and dull grey, reborn in
spring, he threw the left over colors into the air,
some smoked tan for her body and vibrant grey
for his own mind.