Two Roses

One morning when I started sad,

to settle some earthly affray mad

tardily aside one bustling road.

Walked unmindfully and questioning God.

The ascent of a slope I did not feel.

Blame the slowness or my mind !

But when that old man from my hind,

pulling his cart to earn his meal,

pulled past me braving in elderly gait,

against his penury and sickness and fate.

The cart carried some floral greens,

and some pots with them to decorate.

He carried the cart with dwindling means.

In morning itself had to perspirate.

Not much was for me then to do,

But to ignore him the way we do.

I could do and not just think or say,

I could buy some of his sweat drops away.

Checked for money if I carried some

Two roses all could I manage,

and two pots for them to carry home,

With all the papers and coinage.

Both of them had one bud each.

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One soothing yellow and one blooming pink.

I gave the news where it had to reach ,

When the yellow blossomed in a wink.

In eagerness I waited for the other,

To my despair it started to wither.

Sun or water or manure,

I cried for it when could not cure.

Slowly the bud drooped and then it dried.

And every morning some leaves fell.

Some say if lives a single cell,

You may see the living side.

I watered it and kept on praying,

having faith in the sanguine saying.

This morning I have seen a tiny tender leaf,

Has opened wide the ways for my diminishing belief.

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O Owner of all the little lives !

Let not die my cell of hope ,

It is not mine, see it thrives,

I can neither lie nor elope.