The tree whispers softly, gently
I think it’s time to let me go
With a deep sigh, the last flower falls down innocently.
Tiny seeds burrow in the snow
Making their way to the earth’s womb
Come spring, as tender, new plants they bloom, going with the flow.
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With a teenage son and a full time job, writing is what Sheetal enjoys in her spare time apart from singing and reading. She firmly believes that “Something beautiful is about to happen”.
Latest posts by Sheetal Ashpalia (see all)
- On a Divine Quest - 30 Aug 2021
- Shattered - 21 Aug 2021
- Words - 14 Aug 2021