Kusum

This little flower

sitting in the palm

this wilted One

that once was

thought fit

by pilgrims n

priests

to adorn the

golden feet

of powerful

deities..

this little flower

hurled from farm

to fame

this innocent

flower

caught in their

game

of devotion n

drama

is now a wilted One

past its prime

now lies in my palm

they call it a

disgrace

to its name

dear flower

you are the

dearest One

the farmer

who gives his all

in the mighty

ocean

you look like a

drop

but for me..

You are God