Opportunity Poem by gitaanjali naidu

Happy was I,
with palm full of water.
Held my palms tightly close,
from the wrist to base finger,
and no dropp could escape.

Sat on the stone seat,
admiring the tiny ripples,
it mellowed down the stress,
a meditation in itself, thoughts,
liaising mind and soul.

Contemplating this moment,
and incognizant of the happing,
the water evaporated in the air,
and my palm still firm, and
gazing till disappeared.