The Fruits of Labor
Pitter Patter! Pitter Patter!
Rain plays a rhythmic sound..
I soak in the fragrance of wet earth..
A drop on my cheeks, comes trickling down to my lips..
A drop on the leaves of that plant..
comes trickling down to my palms..
As I try holding on to the droplets,
They merge with the lines on my palm..
Playing "Catch me if you can"
I struggle to close the palms,
to not let the droplets fall..
Caught in the web of struggle,
I fumble, I tumble, but in vain,
One last effort in 'catching' the droplet
I make use of a tiny tumbler,
This time the droplet gives way
and trickles from the tip of my fingers
to the bottom of the tumbler..
That droplet taught me a lesson divine,
Light is there at the end of every tunnel,
Dark clouds always part their way for the rising sun,
Setting sun always makes way for the milky moon,
The twinkling stars shine on a dark and sultry night,
Failure paves the way for pinnacle of success,
There is hope even in despair..
Ditch the despair, embrace the joy
Like the budding flower, sow the seeds of an overhaul
You will reap what you sow,
Fruits of your deed will ripe,
and unlike the trickling droplets,
Will cling to the trees waiting for you to pluck,
and savor the fruit of your labor..