! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Thanksgiving! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

A few drops of rain; Multi coloured little grass flowers Come out of earth, And saplings of Peepul Raise their head with cheer On a cobbled path, Or stick their neck Out from crevices In concrete walls. Is it a gesture of Thanksgiving For answering its prayers After a relentless summer? Oh, how wondrous Is nature! It has a great sense of timing And subtle humour. But I fear to tread at dawn On wet grass… know The flowers will Get crushed under my feet, Yet not complain. Perplexed, I ponder, sitting On a wrought iron bench in the lawn. Had an uncanny feeling They couldn't care less.