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The Winds

Some call it the wind,
Some call it the mist,
Which carries the message across
To the person of your dreams;

It brings along their light,
It brings along their dark;
It shares the tears of joy
And unheard, but loud inside, cry,
The love, the care,
The sorrow and despair,
And everything which dwells.

They speak aloud,
Through the silence of the night
And through the day light,
Of the emotions you have shared
And even of the otherwise.
They make us sail through the calm seas,
And sometimes,
Putting us in the roller coaster ride.

And through it all, the two,
Hold on tight,
Blending and reflecting each other,
As they make it through the external life;
Smiling and dancing, uniting forever,
Radiating the glory of divine.

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© 2016 NISARG MEHTA