The meadows.

The green velvety grass land,
Sway back and forth with band,
I am a seed with the woody gene,
Dispersed in various meadows of greens,
Alpine is so steep with pride and intelligence,
Even I sprout and can't hold the terrain,
Elevated people may have the wisdom,
Trees seldom find solace in such stardom.
Prairies are my next target,
Where I want to try my luck,
Caught with notorious angry wildfire,
Thirsty drought, no life tree can prosper.
When coastal meadows are full of salty sweats,
The desert meadows are hot tempered,
Wet meadows are full of river of tears,
Not compatible for me to grow and fruit.
Not suitable for me to have life and laughter.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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