Aliens
Wind-blown seeds
land in unknown soil
in hopes that they will grow
into trees
strong and dense with leaves
heavy with fruit
in fertile ground
where rivers do not
run dry
they do not yet know
what winds and snows
await them
in seasons to come
how frost might freeze
tender sprouts.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
I wait eagerly
for absolute darkness
to lose my shadow -
I drop pebbles slowly
watch them fall
in a shallow stream -
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun -
Walk me through
your caveshow me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom. -
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe
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Hi Neetu, Awesome poem with immigrant experience beautifully rendered.!
Thank you, Veronica. You got the intent perfectly.