The drop spills, life kills - if it’s an uncontrolled motion…. Let us not hold ‘assets’ beyond God’s contention.

DROPS & DROPS

The drop in any form pointed and soft

And the  one you can hold in your palm aloft

Small or big it holds all your  imagination

A sharpened arrow or a soft satin temptation.

When it falls as a hail it penetrates and pierces

And as snow it gently soothes and embraces

It shines on the petals like a priceless diamond

But flows like tears from the eyes abandoned

A Drop in the Ocean is such a ‘Metaphor’

It vanishes in thin air like a piece of Camphor

But the same Drop - drop by drop it fills…

The parched earth, for the ‘farmer’ who tills.

The drop that once was just a grain of sand

That drop so different now stays as silicon

To keep  ‘em  young, pretty and charming

But the result at times may be alarming!

A drop is one that creates and procreates

A drop is the one that almost always satiates

Those parched lips or the arid land exposed

‘Drop’ of Life sometimes by science  juxtaposed.

A drop just holds due to the  surface tension

And life holds for some despite all the tension

I dare say with conviction and sans pretension

The drop spills, life kills - if it’s an uncontrolled motion….

Let us not  hold ‘assets’ beyond God’s contention.

 [ @copyright Jyo 16 Jul 2011]