Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet


I was just a minuscule bird perched on a single leaf; with the forest in the backdrop disastrously charred to raw ash; nobody in a million kilometers of vicinity to listen to my croaky voice, 


It was God who came into my life; made it a mesmerizing garden to wander about and exist. 


 


I was just a soggy matchstick staggering every minute into appalling darkness; ready to wholesomely relinquish my last iota of light, 


It was God who came into my life; not only igniting it into a ball of pugnacious flames; but making them escalate high and handsome towards the sky.


 


I was just a bleary eye; abysmally squinted and closed towards daylight; sparsely able to discriminate between profound shades of black and white, 


It was God who came into my life; not only elevating my vision to perspicaciously clear; but imparting it the virtue to explicitly differentiate between the good and horrendously bad.


 


I was just an arid desert smothering in the boisterous agony of the diabolical day; burnt to unprecedented limits with each stroke of the flamboyant Sun, 


It was God who came into my life; inundated its parched surface with an ocean of sweet water; transformed it into a colossal meadow of green grass to gleefully philander and celestially sleep.


 


I was just a frigid bee in my empty hive; counting the seconds left for life to finish completely; so that I could take birth as a King again, 


It was God who came into my life; not only deluging my dwelling with a mountain of honey; but evoking me to swarm rambunctiously with boundless of my time.


 


I was just a stone deaf and a perpetually dumb beggar; shivering uncontrollably on the streets; without a single piece of garment to engulf my body, 


It was God who came into my life; not only seated me on the magnificently embellished throne; but blessed me with the prowess to disseminate all my wealth


prudently amongst veritably needy mankind.


 


I was just a broken thorn; shattered shoddily into infinite pieces on the scalding ground; awaiting ruthless vehicles every unleashing minute to trespass me; crush me forever into obsolete wisps of oblivion, 


It was God who came into my life; made a brilliantly sparkling sword; ready to defend myself against the most incomprehensible of evil gallivanting around.


 


I was just a gruesomely distorted nib; trembling as the most infinitesimal draught of wind struck me in my belly, 


It was God who came into my life; not only metamorphosed me into a lanky feather tipped pen; but propelled me to emboss fathomless pages of spell binding  literature that became the irrefutable spirit of times.


 


I was just a bedraggled cloud without the tiniest of emotion or empathy; blown away uncouthly into wilderness with the thunderously tumultuous storm, 


It was God who came into my life; found me the love of my dreams; coalesced me into immortal threads of impregnable romance for times immemorial.


 


And I was just a ghastly corpse loitering in the air without an entity of my own; waiting to be barbarically devoured and destroyed, 


It was God who came into my life; changed me into a robust human deluging my chest with divinely breath; giving me a right to lead life; giving me an opportunity to tread on his paradise; giving me a chance to blissfully survive.



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It Was God Who Came Into My Life

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