Flames were coming down from the sun.

Firewood was kept on the stove,

Under the burning earth, a frying pan.

 

My farm plants were drooping, leafless,

The streams gone dried up, deserted,

No drop of water for my dying plants.

 

Sky is cloudless, blue and shiny,

Frogs became gloomy, left the land,

Dusty wind carried the dried leaves away.

 

I asked to the banyan tree, tall and greenish,

“water?”, he laughed shaking murmuring canopy,

And bend down, pointed to own roots.

 

I took the spade, and started dig a well,

Removed soil, cracked the rock,

Streams of sweat started from me.

 

My legs, finally, have touched on wetness,

Water was oozing out, from all sides,

Like blood from a wounded skin.

 

I was fulfilled, like my well,

Sprinkled the water over the farm plants,

New sprouts came on the dried branches.

 

 

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Notes : This simple poem describes about us – who doesn’t know about the “treasure” in us, and go on searching for some “coins” outside !

Please replace the following symbols in the poem with  the respective meaning given and reflect on it !

Water : Happiness, Energy

Hot summer : Struggling times in life

Field / Farm : Human Body with mind and senses

Plants : Senses

Banyan tree : Self- realized masters

Digging : searching for “own self”

Soil, Rocks : Worldly desires which prevent us from finding our self.