The pink petal is holding the buds safe like a mother hen,
I see another overlapping,
As I keep removing the laps one by one,
I realize, isn't our life's destinies going the same,
We achieve one goal, to start one anew,
As we peel the clusters one by one,
Here the stamen and the baby pink plastic like looking layer-
The rest of the flower, latex white,
Picked for cooking along coconut- a tasty delight.
But as I go ahead the layers, size of the clusters small and small,
And plucking getting tough and tough,
Hands blackened, sticky and tight,
As if struck with -Araldite.
I manage to go to a certain extent,
I keep waiting; probably I shall see the top portion now,
Which my mother claimed to be sweet and soft,
Like the heart of the lord
But on and on as I kept peeling,
But after a certain spot
Whence I had no patience left,
I took a knife and slit the cone,
Only to see the layers on and on,.
At this point I had this thought,
Final goal being God,
Final destiny happiness,
We all climb from one step of stairs,
And go along many a stair case.
We reach God the ultimate truth
Or leave the road in between,
This is a dreary journey we make,
To receive the joy of everlasting happiness.