You and I are whistling an old piece of folk
Along with beats of meteorites' shower . . .
Stars are playing hide and seek
Behind the glittering street of galaxy.
The Trimurti smile with kindly eyes
While red roses giggle in tender
by making cute jokes
About slippery ways of astrology.
Sensing no trace of gravity,
Riding a wave with rhyme of light;
You and I are flying high
like two florets from a dandelion.
BS
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