Pink Jasmine
Thorns of the plant are so honed;
And when thorns prick, I can't even shout;
Coz, baby birds, sleeping there in its zone.
Oh, the thorns here, to protect them? I doubt!
Stings of the ants are too sharp;
And when they bite, I can't even cry;
Coz, it is me, who naively crossed their route,
when they are busy transporting foods nearby.
The summer mid day sun glares harshly,
even the cold water in the clay pot turns hot;
The dry leaves and geckos camouflage the way
and the stones there stumble my walk, I cant forget!
Amidst the thorns and ant,
enduring the pain and heat,
my legs step forward,
and my efforts don't go in vain
There smiles the pink jasmine...
Seeing her in full bloom,
my inner soul glows...
And that's how our life is...
Tolerating the temporary pain,
will certainly give us a gain...
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