Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Drop

The Drop

It stands poised in midair,
The drop from my reclusive pen…

It should let itself go,
Fall from grace, be bold,
Rage a storm, blow dust,
Lash everything in sight…

But, the soil isn’t ready,
It has crossed its arms,
The earth hides a weak heart,
Its mouth is not eager…

To swallow the blood
That will splatter its face
When the drop disintegrates
And sows wayward seeds

But, it thunders now and then
Lightning strikes in anticipation
The soil teases and churns
Soon, the drop will bite the dust

Inseminated, soaked to its bones,
Pregnant with unholy secrets
The soil will spring to life
And wanton blooms will streak it scarlet.

- Archana Pai Kulkarni

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