RedPaper.in – Poetry
By: Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
Seasons have passed,
And the dry stick,
Stood there unwavering,
With its loss and hidden pain?
As if it waited
For the moment
For the time
For the sun shifting its motion,
For the planets changing their track,
For the moon shedding its light.
And there came the first small leaf,
Over the stumbling lean dry stick,
That stood there in the middle,
Of moist pot.
The owner smiled,
And mocked at the pessimistic world,
Are the unlocked doors
Sometimes you just need to wait,
For miracles to unfold.