Here come the rains.
It’s their season.
They rule the earth.
For now.

The grasses welcome them.
Each blade filling up its thirst.
Lapping up each trickle
Every droplet a precious gem.

From a corner of an unkept garden.
A blade of grass lies hidden.
One among millions. Unnoticed.
Who will ever see it? Touch it?

To this one blade.
Rains bring hope and a dream
To grow faster…..
Reach taller above the others.
Stand proud beside the flowers.

Soon the rains will be gone.
In their place, the sun
Will warm this blade of grass
Keep it green.

But wait..
What’s that whirring sound?
Coming nearer and nearer.
Like a wind storm howling.

Each blade of grass
Stands rooted to its spot.
As it always is.
As it never can be otherwise.

What is the purpose of it all?
To grow and then be cut in shreds!
Life is not fair
Even to an insignificant blade of grass….

.............................©Jotte: Aug. 8, 1999

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