Eternal Bloom

By Akash Kumar Mishra

When one becomes so obsessed

with something they cannot have,

they often lose their mind.

Some go mad,

while others plant flowers

and name a garden after her.

For a wild thought,

I would quarrel with God,

swear He lost His art after He made her.

Yet, I would never pluck the flower,

for what if I do not deserve it?

What if it shies from my touch,

finds my presence too heavy,

too flawed to linger beside?

What if it is so perfect

it cannot bear to be held by hands like mine?

It is always better left in the garden

and so is she.

Watching her smile from afar

feels like a cool breeze in summer,

a warm hug in winter.

My love is not seasonal,

nor is it rational

it simply exists.

By Akash Kumar Mishra