A lotus bloomed over a puddle
Glistening in the morning sun.
A cheer to the shepard
and to the maiden alike,
While the fisherman pondered on.
A lesser plant, never seen,
A strangled seed never green,
Another lotus born together
But never deserving any cheer.
What makes one a lotus
What strangles the seed unborn
What of the broken weed
Which shall only get a scorn.
Is it the puddle’s devious design
Or the perseverance of the lotus fine
Or the divisive eye of the human
That a lotus blooms
While the weed is kraken
If the beholder constructs beauty
Then isnt the puddle too in his mind?
If I’m right yesterday or today was the day you got your PhD 3yrs back
Ah! Thanks Venkatesh for stopping by. I should check. Dont remember!