The parched grasses keep waiting
Since afternoon,
For the evening to fall,
For the silent descent of dews
Upon their tiny dried up bodies,
To rejuvenate them.
They do not want monsoon rain,
In torrents.
They want slow moistening,
As it comes when the dews fall,
As it comes when the petals of love
Unfold themselves.
They do not want to be washed away,
They want love to linger on!
Dhaka
16 October 2017
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