The Sigh of a Rare Drop

The sigh of a ‘drop’ bidding to fall off the leaf’s edge,

There heard the pattering sound of its friends around,

Bidding farewell to the drop at the tip of the leaf,

To the wide-open mouth of the ground,

And to be a prey to satiate its thirst.

Gone are the days of plenitude and presence,

Found me not elsewhere than on earth,

Yes, it’s me a ‘drop’ needed the most,

Water! She gushed with a sigh of relief.

Cradled and dandled upon the lap of my mother earth,

Granting the vitality to all lives,

Cleaving the web of my obscure thoughts,

Found am I, colourless source of life!

Fear struck my throbbing heart, as to know,

That I remained as the sole drop,

Holding firm to the fringe of the leaf,

Refusing to be a prey of earth’s wide opened dry mouth.

Turning to me, I wondered,

 Oh! Colour stained my soul all around!

Contaminated by the greed of men,

Lost have I, to return no more, to the purity of my past though,

Sighed! The drop, winking its brimming eyes,

And letting loose its grip forever.