In The Next Birth Poem by Nikhil Parekh

In The Next Birth



If I acquired the menacing form of an alligator in the next birth, I would want you to cling tightly to my persona as my serrated green skin.
If I was born in the ominous form of the jungle tiger in the next birth,
I would you to be incorporated in my body as my domineeringly authoritative growl.

If I was born as a densely foliated tree in the next birth,
I would want you to be the perennial leaves that emanated from my silhouette.

If I was born as an opalescent fish in the next birth,
I would want you to be saline water in which I could sustain life and swim.

If I was born as the twin horned sacrosanct cow in the next birth,
I would inevitably desire you as the milk I would diffuse from my flaccid teats.

If I was born as a slithering reptile in the next birth,
I would want you to be the lethal venom I possessed in my triangular fangs.

If I was born as an obnoxious donkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my hooves which swished indiscriminately at innocuous trespassers.

If I was born as perpetually blind in the next birth,
I would indispensably want you to be my eyes to guide me towards dazzling light.

If I was born as being disdainfully maim; bereft of feet in the next birth,
I would incorrigibly want you to be my legs to ecstatically leap in times of jubilation.

If I was born as a rustic spider with a battalion of arms in the next birth,
I would want you to be mesmerizing threads of the silken web which I
inhabited night and day.

If I was born as an inconspicuous mosquito in the next birth,
I would want you to be the sting existing in my bifurcated tentacles.

If I was born as a agglomerate of sinister clouds in the next birth,
I would want you to be pelting sheets of rain tumbling down on the scorched ground.



If I was born as a traditional dancer in the next birth,
I would desire you to be the jingling chains riveted to my anklets.

If I was born as a voluptuous chameleon in the next birth,
I would want you to be the band of colors that I changed according to my habitat.

If I was born as a scintillating oyster in the next birth,
I would want you as the jugglery of immaculate pearls impregnated in my belly.

If I was born as a solitary camel in the blistering heat of desert,
I would inevitably desire you as barrels of pellucid water to placate my thirst.

If I was born as drummer performing at concerts in the next birth,
I would want you as the drum which would be essential for the sound to propagate.

If I was born as the most opulent on the globe in the next birth,
I would intractably want you as the notes of currency; which I possessed in exorbitant capacity.

If I was born as infinite blades of emerald grass in the next birth,
I would want you to be the fertile land mass of soil to provide me tumultuous loads of nutrition.

If I was born as the frivolous monkey in the next birth,
I would want you to be my claws; facilitating me to clasp tree branches in a vice like grip.

If I was born as an ambivalent filmmaker in the next birth,
I would want you to be every film that I directed in my reigning tenure.

If I was born as a tantalizing rose in the next birth,
I would want you to be my everlasting fragrance.

If I was born as a mundane ceiling fan in the next birth,
I would want you to be my riveted blades; circulating exuberant draughts of air.

If I was born as a boisterous honey bee in the next birth,
I would want you to be the sweet nectar I produced from my catacombed body.

If I was born as an inconspicuous nail hung to the wall; in my next birth,
I would want you to be the peels of rust I acquired on my body.



If I was born as the fibrous fruit of apple in the next birth,
I would want you to be the cluster of seeds impregnated in my belly.

If I was born as an indigenous woman in the next birth,
I would overwhelmingly desire you as the contemporary man from the city.

And if by the stroke of chivalrous fortune; I was born as a man again in the next birth,
I would want you to be the same girl; whom I loved immensely today; existing on this earth.

Friday, March 4, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: birth,victory
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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