Gardening the Bhutanese Way

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Seldom known Value


Would you be the water
To meet my evaporation and transpiration demand?
For your existence is my life,
Would you flow towards me always?

Lest you fail to descend from the firmament above
Or crawl up from the earth beneath,
Or creep around my roots from elsewhere
I would still strive to survive.

I would exert myself into physiological resistance.
I would close my stomata partially,
But still wait with the radiance of hope
Of you coming to quench my thirst.

My leaves may droop
The sequel would be nothing
But the abrupt seizure of my growth.
Yet, I am determined to wait.

Hoping that you won’t let me
Go to the extent of my cells becoming flaccid,
I would await your arrival
Until my stomata couldn’t resist the permanent wilting point.

But would you still be flippant?
Would you let the petals of my love to shed?
Let the foliage of my feelings to wilt?
Let the pride of my petioles to droop?

Would you let the fruits of my desire to drop?
Let the unopened bud of my exuberance to wither?
Let the roots of my hope to dry?
Let the bark of my emotions to split?

Would you let the waves of my love
With the highest amplitude of all
And the magnitude immeasurable
To ebb in the distance?

A day when you wet my soil of existence
With all the brooks of the world,
Would be the very day
When I can absorb none.

Neither your words of commiseration
Or your rueful moan
Nor your agony of forlornly cries,
Would spring me back to life then.
All that would remain would be my epitaph.

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