Whilst my chores,
Something came to my notice,
Under the piles of raked leaves,
Lay a withered flower lifeless.
Like the lines on our palms,
It too had many a crease,
That tell the story,
Of where all it had been..
The genesis of this flower was early interrupted,
By a garland seller at the flower market,
Procured by a fella' for early morning prayers,
It ended around an idol , adding to it's embellishing details,
Along came the devotees to seek some blessings,
The priest gives away this flower to a woman as an offering,
On her way back home, she sees a little girl cry,
She gives her the flower just to make her smile,
The girl runs along and finds on her way,
An old man weeping on the roadside astray,
She stops by him and asks him "why?",
Then, likewise, she gives him her flower to make him smile,
The old man , forgets his sorrow,
Overcame by love from a stranger, he mellows,
He walks up to the grave of his wife,
Puts the flower there and whispers ," I miss you, love of my life".
Soon it was Dusk, and the breeze felt chill,
Off came by a scavenger, after a hard days work from downhill,
He found a comfortable grave to sleep on,
He had a quick nap, to refresh himself until dawn.
The breeze blew the flower to his face,
It woke him with the sunlight beaming through it's saffron with grace,
He picked up the flower and set out for the day,
Ready to make another day , with no sign of dismay,
As he passed through the streets, he stops by a tree,
He sees a squirrel run around in a hunger-spree,
He searches his pockets to find some nuts,
he drops the flower from his rags and moves on,
And that's how it ends with raked leaves,
It wouldn't harm to be this flower, now would it ?
Something came to my notice,
Under the piles of raked leaves,
Lay a withered flower lifeless.
Like the lines on our palms,
It too had many a crease,
That tell the story,
Of where all it had been..
The genesis of this flower was early interrupted,
By a garland seller at the flower market,
Procured by a fella' for early morning prayers,
It ended around an idol , adding to it's embellishing details,
Along came the devotees to seek some blessings,
The priest gives away this flower to a woman as an offering,
On her way back home, she sees a little girl cry,
She gives her the flower just to make her smile,
The girl runs along and finds on her way,
An old man weeping on the roadside astray,
She stops by him and asks him "why?",
Then, likewise, she gives him her flower to make him smile,
The old man , forgets his sorrow,
Overcame by love from a stranger, he mellows,
He walks up to the grave of his wife,
Puts the flower there and whispers ," I miss you, love of my life".
Soon it was Dusk, and the breeze felt chill,
Off came by a scavenger, after a hard days work from downhill,
He found a comfortable grave to sleep on,
He had a quick nap, to refresh himself until dawn.
The breeze blew the flower to his face,
It woke him with the sunlight beaming through it's saffron with grace,
He picked up the flower and set out for the day,
Ready to make another day , with no sign of dismay,
As he passed through the streets, he stops by a tree,
He sees a squirrel run around in a hunger-spree,
He searches his pockets to find some nuts,
he drops the flower from his rags and moves on,
And that's how it ends with raked leaves,
As you can see, it touches lives throughout it’s journey,
Well I'm no Palmist,
But I can tell you this,
No matter how our day had been,
It wouldn't harm to be this flower, now would it ?
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