The Dawn

The tree was flowering the waist of every twig at dawn Sun shined it with golden ray through fawned eyes lawn After morning bath you came to pluck some of it No one was there but from the roof silent I greeted Black hair, red vermilion, smiling body and creed The tender hands touched the flowers lovingly in need The basket of oblation became full of charming Holiness before the God brought the scent of spring Hymn from the scripture and the bell reminded the tree That served self to make alive the belief how wonderfully Whose garden, whose flowers were there still I do not know But flowers for solemn hymn the beauty starts the dawn true 22.07.2020 Chattogram