Yesterday, the fan
In the hall fell down
Making a sound like
A bomb exploding
Over our glass dining table
Crashing it to smithreens
Breaking the bottom glass
Also, to thousand pieces
Three seconds later
My wife left from the chair
Directly sitting under the fan,
To cook a new dish,
Near to where the gods idols
Are kept for worship,
Not even scrathing her skin,
Escaping a big Accident
Waiting to happen,
Where as if providence
Saved us from a major mishap,
It was nothing but,
A close encounter of third kind.
the line is too thin to the visible or invisible eye! who what saves one, only one's faith and the power operating will know. glad nothing happened is all we can say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Indeed! Unexplained things happen, and we wonder...may something 'told' her to move, maybe, and, probably this happened for a reason...the knowing of which will develop with time. Good poem about a good outcome! ! ! xxElysabeth