A lonely Drop in the vast ocean,
Tossed and turned and by the wind blown.
Journeying seven lands, over mountains and stones,
never in control, I wonder does it ever moan?
A Beam of sunlight bringing hope to all,
clearing the shadows wherever it falls.
Warming all hearts, gladdening all spirits,
who gives her the joy that she rightly merits?
The delicate Lotus standing tall amidst the filth,
Praised by all, it floats unnoticed, adrift.
Beauty it radiates, shining pearls on its leaves,
Surrounded by squalor, does it rejoice or grieve?
Standing proud and majestic, towering above all,
Unyielding to nature, come summer, spring, or fall.
Thus stands the mighty Oak, sheltering the lost wayfarer.
Neither tales nor songs speak of the behemoth’s valor.
Random thoughts drift ‘cross the mind,
Queries aplenty, no answers to find.
The many hues conflict, in the cauldron they strife.
Is this why they say it’s a wonderful life?
It indeed is a woderful life and a wondeful poem as well. :)
ReplyDeleteWonderful musings:)
ReplyDeleteAs I read this, the mind sped to Milton's sonnet "On His Blindness"
"God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best....
They also serve who only stand and wait."