I’m a flower in the rain,
Getting drenched and yet dry,
Getting hit but no whine or cry,
I look up to the skies,
Smiling, with a twinkle in my eyes,
I’ve waited so long to bloom,
A fugacious pleasure preceding the inevitable gloom,
Pain won’t hold me back,
Rain won’t stop my march on the track,
My fate is barely seven days,
An ephemeral pause in space,
But a week is a lifetime,
Poets have said so in rhyme,
I’ve got to harness my essence,
I’ve got to spread the fragrance,
Mere droplets won’t stop my march further,
Torrential downpours can’t stop me either,
Come hell or high water, the bouquet will be spread,
As will the joy of being, the virtue of existential bread,
Because this is one single duration train,
And I am, but, a single flower in the rain.
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