True Love Is A Garden

true love is a garden,

but love, a bouquet,

one is endless, eternal,

one is where you see all the colors,

the entire range -

from the brightest to the darkest, 

one is where you're not scared

to walk through the puddle,

where you're willing to trade

the beauty for the scars of the thorns,

one where there is a freshness

where you deal with the blooming 

and the wilting,

one which you look back,

even if it's barren recalling the beauty,

one is pristine, 

and gets etched in memory

and stays with you,

even in its absence,

and is missed and longed for,

and long after,

the other is just coloured 

true love is a lifetime,

while love, only a season,

one is all-weather, beyond the bends

of time and space,

one sheds and regrows,

one has the fall and the spring,

and where even the summers

and the winters ring,

one ebbs and flows, but the soul lives on,

one where life breathes on,

one embraces the cuts and the bruises, 

the scars and the sufferings

with a smile

and endures the pains, like the nile,

and cherishes only the smile,

one is timeless and spaceless,

the other, only a season,

maybe, looks for a reason

true love lives in the other's pains,

but love feels theirs who she calls her own,

and rolls tears when the pain is only her own,

one lives the other's life,

tears up upon the other's storm,

stays up so the other can sleep,

puts on the other, and the other's everything,

ahead of own,

puts up with the other's everything,

one lives and thrives

even in the distance, 

and is yet always around,

before whom even destiny takes a retreat,

one never moves on 

not even when faced with 

the cruel blows of luck, time or life,

one longs for the other's smiles,

even when robbed of their own,

the other, only a blindfold

true love is about giving,

love is about asking,

one is always forgiving,

believing and trusting,

owning up the other's world,

always owning up before when due,

one is being there for the other,

not looking to be asked for,

one is feeling the unlettered thoughts,

listening to the unuttered fears,

and crying at even the unborn tears,

one is about the usaid words,

unconditional,

unwavering and unselfish, 

one is lost in the other,

the other lost only in self

my love is a flower,

but your love, only a perfume,

one is real,

takes blood and sweat

to come to life,

one flows freely,

and is penned by god,

is a god, a messiah and a messenger,

one is a blessing

and is answered only by true prayers,

one is born, lives, and thrives 

in the soul,

one is eternity,

shapeless, timeless, boundaryless,

beyond the horizons of words,

of and the limits of the worlds,

is felt by willing souls,

one is priceless,

the other must only be paid for

one spreads fragrance in the other's world,

the other wears off only with time

©​ sashikant mohanty