How spring comes

 

Gathering their frosty fingers, the cold gales retreat

Stepping back into the climes from whence they came.

And, out dribbles benevolence from a salubrious sun;

Tippling its warmth, it shines as if smiling joyously.

 

The pristine duvet of puffy white snow embraces

The tepid love and dissolves into rapturous colours.

The earth transforms, it comes alive, and it breathes.

The hues cavort in a riotous mob of shades, in the leas.

 

Shoots sprout, jousting with the hardened crust.

Birds chirp, serenading the breeze that redolent

With the fragrance of spring, gently billows as if

Caressing all and sprinkling motherly love around.

Image – Google

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About Sonal Singh

An author, storyteller, and full-time observer of life’s glorious absurdities. I write humour-laced stories where chaos wears fluffy fur, emotions arrive uninvited, and middle-class Indian households become ecosystems of drama, love, and unsolicited advice. Armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and alarming emotional attachment to stray creatures, I believe compassion is less of a virtue and more of a lifestyle disorder. One that I embrace. When I’m not writing, I’m usually busy running a full-time HR consultancy business, rescuing animals, or trying to maintain dignity while being emotionally manipulated by my pets. Through my literary work, I try to blend humour with heart, celebrating the messy coexistence of humans and non-humans in modern urban India.

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