Dying leaves

Shiva Dahal
Kentucky, America

If beauty comes from the divine thought,
this fall is a grace
If profundities come from sublime heart,
this fall is a purest harvest
Who would deny, those leaves
aren’t flower
Who wouldn’t get baffled
by the colourful woods that you pass by.
O ! mother nature, tell me,
Secret of thine divine art
that gives colors
To these dying leaves.

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