Spring of Hope, Always finds a way, It Always has.
Spring Will Find a way, It Always Has… Through the Stones — our weapons, It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a way, It Always Has… Through the Closed-Doors, our shops & Homes, It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a way, It Always Has… Through the Home-turned-Lockups, Our Beloved Homes… It Always Has…
Spring will Find a way, It Always Has… Through the floods, where is the Noah’s Boat, It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a Way, Through the Autumns, our Chinars, a flame within us It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a Way, Through the Winters, A cover over our martyrs, those graves are still there, It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a Way, Through the Blood-oozing, seeping to bedrock of our conscience, It Always Has…
Spring will Find a way, through the Bullets & Pellets, the wounds never go away, they are still there, It Always Has…
Spring Will Find a Way, Like the Grass Between Cobble Stones, Murdered, Yet not Dying… the road may be less travelled, But are always there…
Spring will Find a way, It Always Has…
— Majid Nisar
THE HUMAN LAYER
The contemplative side of a technical mind — verse from Kashmir, landscapes shaped by light, and writing that stays close to what it means to notice.