shuvo chakraborty - Sometimes

Sometimes I think; is it pertinent to be minute,
About nature details to breath her full?
The overjoying soul to an overall vision;
Be decrepeited as a naive in gods grand feast.
When the clouds are deep and too black;
Enveloping the hills and bowers;
Or floating over lake water in hurry;
Can be discreet to avoid a clumsy soul?
Oh common sight on hillside at eventide;
That being graced with dronning crickets, innumerable,
Hidden not in strife and pale;
But in glory of eves and on cradle of leaves.
If a soul lend an ear to such marvel;
If a soul counts the stars till they mingle on morn;
If a soul smells all beauties half hidden,
Then passion be denied of its rightful place?
Grace is the name of countless flowers and weeds;
Unaccounted army of decoration;
Ordaining all the nature readers to unknown pages;
Where death, pain, sorrow pales in pleasures race.

shuvo chakraborty

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sometimes-407/