Parallels

It could have been the spring
and the thawing snow
which has splashed some colors over the blank canvas.
It could even be the illuminated joy that,
with a painting brush,
has sprinkled the magic of burgundy evenings.
Or,
Is it just you who had knocked on the door
oblivious to the unwelcoming storm
to drizzle over the vast stretch of barren land.
And,
As I see few specs of green
under the blue blue sky
Me, a solitary cliff by the sea
can just speculate when this would pass by.
I am in love with the waves
who takes away a part of me everytime we meet.
You are the lake with your own story of stagnancy.
Don't make me fall for you
You are not the rivulet that reaches the sea
And I am not the depth that you need.
©srijaprasita