Genre Poetry. Page - 208
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I wear the silence
From mother’s gentle palms
The scent of grass untouched
Summer reflecting heaven
In the clear blue horizon
I cross the air mountains
On the path of universe
Maybe there’s a shadow
A tree
Or the ants army
From my grandparents yard
It’s raining smiles and colors
A sign that God loves us
I’m here , you’re here
Touching our hands
Like in a secret prayer