How we planted marigold
From one end of Aaraspoora
To the other,
Hoping many more would be
Wedlocked the coming year,
And temple-bells would swing
To marigold showers
From ardent well-wishers far and near.
Full grown now in fields of gold petal,
We pluck them like weed,
Burying them back in the ground
Or washing them down what water
Still is in a dry river bed.
In corona times, where is the need
For marigold?
Yet, there is that saying
From the Bard “O, reason not the need,”
For nothing puts greater value on
Marigold than the mere sight of them
In upright droves, happy to be themselves,
Indifferent to being showered, plucked or sold?
That wicked Corona could not stop
Their burgeoning,
Is enough reason for us to smile
At the happening.
Flowers just will bloom,
However insistent the gloom.
Even the most arid wilderness
Brings us face to face with a resplendent cactus.
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