SUMMER

SUMMER

Cool morning,

Summer sun,

Brown flower greets banana green,

Birth has roots down on the earth,

In the nature, none can obscure the sun,

Birth as a gift that travels like light,

With records of name, address, story,

No need to stop at doorsteps of ashes,

Because, scorching sunrays burn only

Pirate amoeba, infected, to immaculate a body,

Incidents flow like noun, across a sentence, 

With subject and predicate, spine in a body, 
So many bodies cannot travel on wings of light
And fall on the ground and are dispersed into two - 
Exorcism and hymns of spirits - different forms of
The first born, it brings bodies arranged in 

Hell and heaven, drifting away from origin,

Veiled attempt to hell, inward knowing

To heaven, and it makes morning sun scale gaze,

Language gets momentum, and it is noon when

All tests are done to burn stained attempts.

We owe longing,  and thereby whole essay so formed

Feeds contention, conclusion, far away

From ashes, as our eyes condemn burning

Of dreams, even if land becomes infertile,

That the nature suspects it cannot be.