Tread lightly, step softly
on tip-toes.
Flow subtly.
Hush! Quietly glide by,
O! Giddy, carefree Spring.

 

The Keepers of my Faith
are in a sweet slumberous mood,
resting to wake up fresh!
To grow sylphlike wings
on my delicate, lithesome dreams.

 

Wings! In shades of flaxen gold,
silver, deep purple, more radiant,
even more radiant than you,
O! Spring!
In shapes of stars, fairy wands,
moon’s crescent chin, toadstools
standing in forest greens.

 

Wings! Waiting to sprout
and burst open; even more open
than the most regal happening
bloom of the best of Springs!
Carrying parcels of the choicest
of heavenly blessed blessings,
to make all my dreams come true.

                          

Geeta Chhabra