He Was The Creator Poem by Nikhil Parekh

If I was a minuscule brick looking as inconspicuous as a mosquito; sandwiched between several of my kind,
He was the entire building; towering domineeringly over the crowded and bustling street.

If I were a diminutive stalk of grass sprouting from the soil; buckling down with paramount ease under feeble draughts of wind,
He was the entire space of fecund land; sprawling over thousands of kilometers.

If I were a obscure wave rising in the sea; falling intermittently with the positioning of the enchanting moon,
He was the entire ocean; which was incongruously colossal in size; incorporating a fleet of animate organisms in its belly.

If I were a small mound of clay lying dilapidated beside the hill; with irregular strands of thread camouflaging my persona,
He was the gigantic mountain; with profoundly accentuated summits; standing formidably against the most tenacious of storm.

If I were an ephemeral ray of light falling on the earth; miserably unable to make the slightest of indentation in illuminating the atmosphere,
He was the magnanimous sun brilliantly scintillating in the sky; radiating his omnipotent essence far and wide.

If I were a disdainful cockroach loitering indolently around the lavatory seat; with sporadic incidences of devouring small ants,
He was the entire jungle; impregnated with ferocious beasts; breeding the primordial dinosaur thundering his way through the mangled green.

If I were a crisp note of currency; incessantly relishing my prospects of spending exorbitantly,
He was the entire money which floated in this world; the conglomerate of opulent banks overflowing with cash.

If I were a contemporary computer; having a battalion of intricate chips in my brain,
He was the stupendous power; governing my mind as well as adroitly maneuvering the world.

If I were an mystical astrologer; scientifically predicting the fortune of some of my clients,
He was the one who sculptured the life of millions existing; impeccably wrote my destiny; without a trace of blemish.

If I were a globule of water lying solitary on the forlorn street; being ruthlessly kicked by passing pedestrians,
He was the entire expanse of vast sky; which pelted thunderously blissful droplets of rain.

He was the one who had procreated the first human; from which later were spawned millions inhabiting this globe; the very reason that I was here breathing fresh air in my lungs today,
And Let me tell you I was just an ordinary man residing amongst infinite numbers like myself; while he was the omniscient Creator.