life is an endless enigma,
where the flower doesn't knowthe beauty of her being
on the one who gets drawn to her,
she doesn't realise
of the magic she spells,
she doesn't even know
that she has an aroma,
and how she's so uniquely blessed,
and how her beauty, scent and colours
come to life
in a stranger's soul, eyes
and life
life is an endless enigma,
where the breeze doesn't know
she rings in a soothing relief,
that she brings life back
in the one gasping and
almost given up,
she doesn't even know
that she wipes the sweat and the tears
from an unnamed's brows and eyes,
and is blissfully unaware
how she never gave up
being the welcome breeze,
in the life of the one who longed for her,
in that stranger's soul, eyes
and life
life is an endless enigma,
where the moon doesn't know,
that she makes the day,
of the one longing for her
beaming in her gentle light,
straight through the cracks of the heart
of the one who's lost in the dark,
and the ways she healed
and how she heralded the rainbow,
in that stranger's soul, eyes
and life
life is an endless enigma,
where the soul doesn't know
where its home is,
as it wandered the streets, the lanes
and the alleys,
on land, sea and in the skies,
not knowing
where its warmth and smiles
came from, and thrived,
and longed to be home,
it doesn't even know
how its path is preset to be home,
in that stranger's soul,
that stranger's eyes,
and that chosen stranger's life
© sashikant mohanty
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