For Imparting New Life Poem by Nikhil Parekh

For imparting life to dead granules of soil; all I did was to inundate its surface with cool buckets of water,

For generating life in pallid patches of the dilapidated wall; all I did was slapped it with several coats of vivacious color,

For instilling life in broken lips; all I did was kiss them intensely every where over their chapped periphery,

For giving life to the sad girl philandering in corridors of gloom; all I did was danced like a clown; bringing a smile to the contours of her face,

For reviving life in the lackadaisical flower; all I did was commanded the clouds to shower droplets of exhilarating rain,

For bestowing life in the shattered web; all I did was leave a cluster of spider to weave their way through the same,

For reinvigorating life in a dreary pair of eyes; all I did was vigorously rubbed them with raw extracts of pungent turmeric,

For rejuvenating life in a scorched throat; all I did was tickle it with chilled champagne,

For reinstating life in a cluster of rotten vegetables; all I did was place them in the interiors of a swanky refrigerator,

For revitalizing life in the tired soles of feet; all I did was put them on the accelerator of a flamboyant racer car,

For stimulating life in a fractured hand; all I did was to bring it near a panthers jaw; fomenting the bones to automatically reshape themselves at electric speeds,

For offering life to the voice chords of a dumb man; all I did was bring his lost children in front of his eyes; triggering him to shout in ecstatic euphoria,

For energizing life in a lazy camel; all I did was put him under the blistering sun of the sandy desert,

For propelling life in the silhouette of a battered car; all I did was flood its belly with gallons of golden petrol,

For resurrecting life in visage of an orphan; all I did was held him close to my chest; in the comfort of my arms for times immemorial,

For fortifying life in the wrinkled skin of the abysmally old; all I did was recite to them nostalgic tales about their boisterous past,

For reanimating life in a ghastly bruise; all I did was to dress the wounds with the bond of my empathy,

For regenerating life in a dead man; all I did was blend my senses wholesomely
with his soul,

And for imparting new life to a miserably devastated heart; all I did was fill
its cavities with the stream of my passionate love.