Plants
The plants reflect the green colored vigor
roots evenly stretched like the diffusion of mint fragrance across the lawn.
We frequently converse
about the sky that proudly stands up across the horizon
and the earth that holds all of us,
and we talk surprisingly about the universe,
that holds the sun, moon and stars.
Mercury too hot to dissolve,
and the moon too cold to breathe.
There is a plant situated at the corner.
As I approach it,
It starts dancing to its tune,
whirls and smiles gently.
I join shyly to its symphony,
I am too shy.
As the blackness of night approaches around all of them,
I hear them whispering to each other;
their secrets and idiosyncrasies.
They calls themselves by names.
More than chlorophyll, more than their green.
I acknowledge a vivacious garden settling to its heartbeats.
Shreya Sharma, 24. India.
Instagram: @sharmashreya020