Of Earthen pot with widened mouth,
A tiny leaf which is about to sprout,
A timid lantern smearing its Dim light,
Of Parched pathway in the withered land,
Looking at the sky in the midst of his field, where a farmer stands.
Smell of the earth that calls for the season’s opening shower,
Of a train pushing off from a platform against its will with all its power.
Of a child standing by the window expecting his Dad to return,
Ancient mysteries of the bygone ages, waiting to be rewritten.
Of a trembling old man, tired, feeble and weak,
Taking few more steps before trailing his final streak.
Of an old woman in asylum, silently resting on her arm chair,
But with eyes on the door in search of his son who has no time to spare.
In all the things, one common thread running through is the long lasting wait.
Though deep down each one will have a different story to narrate.
7-12-10
2:50 am
Awesomeness! :*
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