Rain
Thunder is shrieking
It is raining
Drenching the earth
A sprout yearning to pop out
Pops its head out
Nature is weeping
Looking at its infant
And nurtures it
In her lap
Sprout lies there ruminating
With its limbs
On her bosom
Slowly opens her eyes
By the dab of light
T'morrow she will rise up
In the new world
With her Leaves like wings
In future she will have the bliss
Of getting the spring's kiss
She will blush
And smile at him
With bright petals in bloom
But if her flimsy leaves
Are ruptured by a brutal arm
Pang of nature
Teem down as rain
Cry of nature
For her daugher
It's beautiful, dear.When i read this poem, for a brief instant, i became a tender bud, listening to nature's lullaby, in the security of her love, in the world of rosy dreams.
ReplyDeleteArya's right... One turns into a little sprout for a moment... Beautiful Aparna :)
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