Among so many different flowers
In the hilly slopes and the valleys,
Stood a solitary one in the corner,
That singularly caught my eyes.
All the flowers gently swayed alike,
But not all had the same merriment.
Some did it with sprightly dance,
Some like a ritual, as if in a trance.
Butterflies, bees and the dragonflies
All came in groups with no surprise,
Singing their own serenades of love,
To the bright flowers, hovering above.
When all others were frolicking in fun,
Distinctly different was the solitary one,
All the while she was looking at the sun
To collect her nectar, no one had come.
A poet proceeded to her in steady gait,
To take her picture, he couldn't wait.
He knew one day his memory would blur
So he wanted a picture, to archive her.
This picture became a symbol to many
Who were lonely, without a company,
To them it was but a symbol of solitude,
Of a lonely soul marching with the multitude.
Poet's Notes:The idea of this poem came when the poet saw a solitary flower while visiting Nangolkot, Nepal, in April,2012
13 November 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem