When you sprinkled the dew drops

This poem is the expression of a plant.

When a seed is nurtured well, it grows up into a beautiful plant. But when the person, who helped instill the life in that little seed wants to drift away, what does that plant, wrenching in pain, wishes to become ?

 

When you sprinkled the dew drops

you didn't know

there lied a seed buried deep

under the wraps of the soil.

When you sprinkled the dew drops,

you didn't know

that the seed - dry, dying

cocooned in its tough shell

got the moisture of the droplets

which you just let go.

As a pitcher overflowing with water,

as a heart overwhelmed with love

would shower it on anyone

that comes its way.

When you sprinkled it , you surely didn't know.

When you levelled the wet soil

you didn't know

you will fill the seed with desire -

to break free from its pea like mould,

to get a feel of the hand which gave it life.

As you sat close by, watching with tenderness

filling its heart with unexplainable joy

the plant grew and buds bloomed!

Raising its arms, and swaying in joy,

the plant stood looking at the sky

thanking for the life bestowed on it

when it thought, it was left with no more ;

thanking for the happiness showered on it

when it thought it didn't deserve any more.

While it thought, it was a serene calm

that has blessed its existence,

it was the screeching silence of

nobodyness around it.....

And the sad and limp, little plant murmered :

"As the days passed, so did the ecstasy

and suddenly, like a hasty traveller

you just got up to go past me ?"

"Or is it the sand storm that scared you?

is it the evil ways of the winds

that made you change your path?"

"But, now, I only wish I grew up as a cactus

I would have stored in me

(in my ugly stout body)

the rustle of your voice

the warmth of your breath

the sweeping touch of your eyes

the spark of your being

the frangrance of your soul

and that one fleeting moment of love.

I wish I was a cactus,

cursed to live without its life fluid

yet grounded, standing stiff, proud of itself,

with thorns all over : the branches shrunk with pain,

I wish I was a cactus

for I would have dwelled forever

on the dew drops sprinkled on me

without looking up at the sky again

as it hardly rains in desert,

as it hardly ever rains in desert.

When you sprinkled the dew drops

I am sure, you didn't know that.

A Restless Mind With
A Sensitive Heart.