Twinkling as a star, on concrete.
Every drop, distinct, discrete.
As it falls, so it breaks
Into several droplet-mates.
Parting with its friends,
Ripples across, it sends.
That converge and diverge,
Humming a love song or a dirge.
Relieves the scorched ground;
Joins the river, ocean-bound.
The sweet aroma of wet soil;
The cool breeze, a pay for toil.
That little drop, in us inspires,
To spread joy, every soul requires,
To adapt, to be loved, to mingle,
Elika Garg
I year B.Tech
Biotechnology