Celebrations

The trees remained clothed in green 
Yet the pathway seemed like a riot of colours
After all the celebrations were to come.
Chill winds ran across the lands,
While cozy evenings and warm soups filled them.
Caramel leaves tumbled to life with the wind,
requesting a last wistful dance
before a wintry embrace would claim them
In an elegant dance the leaves celebrated the season of festivals.
Tamilians called it pongal,
Punjabis called it lohri,
Gujratis called it utaryan
Assamese called it sakranta
While Rajasthanis called it makar sakaranti
But the nature knew,
It was all the celebration of nature.