! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Thanksgiving! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Poem by Mamta Agarwal

A few drops of rain;
Multi coloured little grass flowers
Come out of earth,
And saplings of Peepul
Raise their head with cheer
On a cobbled path,
Or stick their neck
Out from crevices
In concrete walls.

Is it a gesture of
Thanksgiving
For answering its prayers
After a relentless summer?
Oh, how wondrous
Is nature!
It has a great sense of timing
And subtle humour.

But I fear to tread at dawn
On wet grass… know
The flowers will
Get crushed under my feet,
Yet not complain.
Perplexed,
I ponder, sitting
On a wrought iron bench
in the lawn.
Had an uncanny feeling
They couldn't care less.