I searched myself again and again
sometimes in flower
sometimes in colour
sometimes in song, and in music
in the spring, sometimes.
sometimes on canvas, sometimes in the mirror
sometimes in rain with pain
sometimes in the trough
which is true.
Why is my story so scattered?
Though it did not matter.
it’s on the beginning side
but there is no end ,I take it as a pride.
Why is the life mirror broken again and again
I too have been broken with a deeper pain
Now I don’t feel the courage to get up, but
then I look at those drops.
They have no fear
They get absorbed in this soil,
when the clouds come
I am Eager to see rain drops again
Urvashi Verma
visionaryusha 