A Flower Poem by Anish Chouhan

Life is a small stream,
On which we strew alone,

Petal by petal the flower of our heart;
The end lost in dream,

They float past our own view,
We only watch their glad, and an early start.

Freighted with hopes,
Crimsoned with abandon joy,

We scatter the leaves of our opening rose;
Their widening scope,

Their distant employ of hopes,
We never shall know and the stream remains as it flows;

Sweeps them away,
Each one is gone through this way,

Ever beyond into infinite ways, can be easily lost somewhere.
We stay thinking alone,

While years hurry and pass on,
The flower may scorch, though its fragrance still stays forever.