Is the flower the Archbishop of a cathedral
Called tree?

Squirrels, birds and insects visit
Its branches like compelled consciences
For a confession
To unload their chest, of echoes
Of the brutality they commit on fruits
The innocent citizens of the vegetable countries
The flower presides
Over the winged and unwinged creatures
Of creation and impart to their lives
The aesthetics of silence
Night is the contemplative mood
Of the garden and the garden
The dream of the night
As the garden lies serene in sleep
Under the stars
Of the dark blue night
It unfolds itself as a great civilization
Of symbols
Meadows of metaphors
Float in the depths of the leafy dream
Of a tiny bird gathered into its wings
In the quintessence of the branch-
In the hermitage of flowers
All colors lead to the destination of the saffron-
-Seshendra Sharma
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