Two Raindrops Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Raindrops by misty clouds are carried,
A drop therein is mighty worried:

I might fall oh amidst raging fire,
And die soon as alas I am born;
I might well fall over desert dire,
To be consumed by sands much like corn;
Or might fall on rocky hard terrains,
Oh, to be tiny li'le smithereens.

But look at the other of a twain,
What a firm chin and all so sanguine!
There's a chance, in sea-shell I might fall,
And one day turn out purest of pearl!
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Musings | 10.11.15 |