When there’s not much to say,
And too much has been heard.
Regrets pile up along with each step
The road seems all desolate and dust.
Look for the tiny green sprouting up,
Around you among the dried up crust
Wonder, how in the deserts they mature?
When all tread it together you see,
It’s about time the earth goes soft and
subtle
That’s where you are right now, child,
Helping in smoothing land for tomorrow.
Momina.
sweet thought :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Vimal! :)
DeleteThat was lovely. Even in the most bleak landscapes and after terrible destruction growth can occur.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mark, and of course the growth is always there and when you can't see it, it's only because it's underground then and you'll eventually see the changes it makes!
DeleteBrilliant, indeed!
ReplyDeleteThank you! I hope to see your comments in the future, too! :)
DeleteOh yeah, definitely. I'm following you now, aren't I. :P
DeleteOf course, thanks! :)
DeleteI wish I could write poetry like you :)
ReplyDeleteThat's very flattering, I wish I could have your photography skills! :)
DeleteWords that painted a picture in my mind and made me smile! :)I liked the opening lines.. wonder how strangely things are perceived?
ReplyDeleteThank you very much! I am glad they made you smile!
DeleteThis is pretty soothing you know :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Lubaina!
DeleteLovely words!
ReplyDeleteFollowing you now. :)
Happy blogging!
Thanks, Maryam!
DeleteYou too. :)
It's not always easy to see that tiny green sprout in a dust-ridden world. Beautiful words.
ReplyDeleteIt's not but time will show them. Thank you! :)
DeleteNothing has been said, I believe and presume nothing has been heard. The regret is for me to live in this case too. Sighs
ReplyDeleteIt's good to have you back! :')
DeleteThank you :')
DeleteI missed this place! <3