Impossible
Impossible…
IMPOSSIBLE
by Atul Ranchod
Spiky thorns
Green vicious horns
Arid, dry, torn.
No beauty to beckon
Presumed to be barren
Discarded no attention given.
Lessons lay
In Natures’s play
Amidst the hopeless
Unwanted and thrown away
Miraculously it finds a way
Such delicate wings
Granted to feel
Even for a moment
The blossoming.
Pains held that have shaped
The hardened edges
Where sharp tongued sarcasm
Ready and armed
At a world that has lost
Its charm.
In this microsecond
Where no excuses
Have time to formulate
The impossible takes shape,
A breath
Breathing life
For beauty’s sake.
So many moments
Lost in eternity’s pond
But there lies a land
Far away from
The clutches
Of right and wrong.
It isn’t for the weak
Or the strong,
Where you alone belong.
Tears fill my parched heart
At last the blossoming
May now start.
