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Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet

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Yet. And Unbelievably Yet.
by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet → (All Poetry by Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet)
Sunday, March 20, 2016    Rated "G" by the Author.
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 Neither did it have any color of its own; not even the tiniest tinge of distinguishable recognition; whilst floating in free bits of euphoric space, 

 
Neither did it have any shape of its own; not even the most mercurial form of solidity; being fecklessly blown away like frigid matchsticks; with the slightest draught of powerful wind, 
 
Neither did it have any fragrance of its own; not even the most evanescent scent of blissful triumph; with even the scent of the diminutive grass blade overruling it in all respects, 
 
Neither did it have any identity of its own; suspended like an invisible speck of emptiness; even under the most Omnipotent rays of the sun and the most tenaciously shimmering moonlight, 
 
Neither did it have any dimensions of its own; not even occupying even the most zillionth ounce of space; although proliferating at faster than the speed of lightening every unfurling minute, 
 
Neither did it have any reflection of its own; miserably floundering to discern even an infinitesimal iota of itself; even when indefatigably staring into the most 
candidly austere of mirrors, 
 
Neither did it have any friends of its own; as in the first case where was it to be seen even a transient trifle; for it to dare dream of compassionately socializing, 
 
Neither did it have any ambitions of its own; remaining just the same puff of fugitively wandering atmosphere; since centuries and times immemorial, 
 
Neither did it have any magnetism of its own; being worthlessly blown by even the most inconspicuously fragile change on this fathomless Universe; overwhelmed by every nimbly parading footstep in vicinity, 
 
Neither did it have any voice of its own; with even the loudest of its whisper; wretchedly floundering to travel a few millimeters beyond its inexplicably non-existent feet, 
 
Neither did it have any destiny of its own; with its life continuing with the same intensity; shape and form; right since the time this majestic earth was ever evolved, 
 
Neither did it have any desire of its own; maintaining the same composure since decades unprecedented; irrespective of the infinite shades of changing weather; storm; or tantalizing rain, 
 
Neither did it have any ancestral lineage of its own; not even a single organism ever born on this boundless Universe; to lend even the most diminutive insinuation of relationship to it, 
 
Neither did it have any power of its own; infact the very first one to uncontrollably reverberate; even though the patriotic trumpets of war blew an infinite kilometers away, 
 
Neither did it have any influence of its own; with none able discern through its unceasing array of whispering balderdash; on the trajectory of this inexhaustibly emollient earth, 
 
Neither did it have any virility of its own; with just an unceasing stream of impotent air; sporadically tickling and flirting with the haplessly chagrined leaves, 
 
Neither did it have any signature of its own; with even the most mercurial elements of the atmosphere; wholesomely transcending its obsolete swirl, 
 
Neither did it have any freedom of its own; as it existed all its life and for a countless more of its lifetimes; solely within the confines of this spectacularly ever-pervading Universe, 
 
Yet. And unbelievably Yet. Once this very same puff of invisible breath entered the nostrils; it became the most Omnipotent power of the Creator; it became a thing more worshipped than the greatest of any wealth on this earth; it became the most ardently immortal source of all love and relationship; and it existed forever and ever and ever as the most Omnipresent gift of the Almighty Lord Divine.

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