when the desert will bloom
and lakes will flourish
with fishes that will roam freely
not just in the water but above the ground
trees will swim and
moons will grow on their branches
what will happen to the poets
they will sharpen plough shears
and pulverize the soil
any soil, or rich organic soil
but will not soil complain
it would let weeds do the task
it would not like ploughs and all other violations
now, let me tell you,
in this world,
you will not see,
i will not tell
but conversations will become clouds
will u still want desert to bloom, clouds to rain