A Drop

A drop
Clung to the leaf
at the edge,
waited
Like the maiden
in the ball
with breath bated
So did I

Pause
That stretched till eternity,

broken
By the wind's temerity

.
.
.
.
-! Plop! -
.
.
.
The drop
Lost
In the vastness of the pond
disappears

In memory remains
fresh


The bond
tenuous
Of the dropp and the leaf


So deep
inscribed forever


alive
In me

by Meena Iyer

Comments (1)

Something to do with procreation? Well, it suddenly struck me as such! Wow! Taken in (pun) so artistically and appealing. Arya