Prosperous Immigrants..

never heard of giggling water,
never touch the tingling soil,
never breathe the whistling air,
hide between the rocks many decade.

well preserved, well nourished,
well protected, well kept,
I have life in me. I am a seed.
Waiting silently to sprout up.

An ambitious guy uses a spade,
I am released from the dark,
None can stop a life from growing,
I sprout up victoriously.

Hidden talents have to be identified,
When Ample opportunities are available,
Those who do not make use of it, may suffer,
but the life with real life in it, will prosper.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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