Isabella Francis

(18 June 1996 / India)

Dewdropp on My Palm


One morning I opened my eyes and blinked them clear
From that very moment I felt your presence near.

I opened the door and went out in my garden
The soaked grass was as silky as words flowing out of a pen.

I gingerly touched my only cherry tree
And a dewdrop, like a blessing, fell on me.

As soothing as a hug and reviving as a kiss
As beautiful as early morning mist.

Like a newborn it was pure and innocent
In its one nights lifetime it had nothing to repent.

I was afraid to love it, cherish it
Afraid that in doing so, I might unknowingly hurt it.

In a few minutes my dewdropp was about to cease to exist,
As the sun would be up to let life set on its routine drift.

I could never let my dewdropp leave me and end as nothing
Even if nothing for all, for me it would be a little something.

The one way to keep it with me forever,
Was to make it my blood and forget it never.

I hold up a silver knife and make a little slit on my wrist,
Stopped the bleeding and deepened it

I pushed it slowly into my blood stream,
My heartbeat raced as fast as a light beam.

Soon my love, my dewdropp reached my heart
From there it spread into each and every part.

From my heart it also journeyed into my soul,
I had been sorely incomplete and it filled my hidden gaping hole.

The hollow days have passed
Sleepless nights now are a thing of the past.

Now my love, my dewdropp will forever be with me,
Our souls are now intertwined and it is now my identity.

Submitted: Wednesday, January 04, 2012
Edited: Saturday, March 31, 2012

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