Rare Moments of Beauty

Some flowers bud and withers before bloom 

Never to dream again, withered, before fallen again

Drooping branches, sign of resignation of nature

Tired enough; no passersby, or even some who could caress the beauty

Too much to bear, the early boon given away easily

Sleep, some souls never dream of waking amidst the untimely interruption

Rare notes of beauty and it's fragrance visits the quietest night

When moon settles on her bosom, embraced by pure love

Unfolding petals, the divine nature across a perfumed land

-Amitav Chowdhury

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