Not The Tiniest Of Difference At All Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Not The Tiniest Of Difference At All



It would make a world of difference; if you left the fish to exotically swim in the majestically undulating ocean; or the spuriously embellished and parsimoniously asphyxiated aquarium,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the parrot to unequivocally fly in uninhibitedly royal sky; or the treacherously maudlin and brutally sanctimonious cage,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the rainbow to vivaciously dazzle in the fathomlessly endowing cosmos; or the regally glass-facaded ceiling of your monotonously concrete business-house,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the flower to perennially blossom in unassailably Omnipotent soil; or the grandiloquently pompous and morosely incarcerate vase,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the cactus to unrestrictedly sprawl in the royally boundless and blistering desert; or the austerely dingy pot near the kitchen sink,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the dew drop to fantastically glisten on the pristinely princely grass blade; or the besmirched window of your soiled bathroom,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the lion to gloriously parade in the exuberantly bountiful jungle; or the disparagingly robotized entrenchment of the inclemently scurrilous zoo,

It would make a world of difference; if you left Sunshine to tirelessly blaze every conceivable quarter of symbiotic earth; or the chauvinistically corporatish patio on the sordidly malicious edifice terrace,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the snake to joyously philander amidst the inscrutably untamed creepers of the forest; or the treasury of abhorrently blood soaked and sinful jewels,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the frog to boisterously exult in the freshly rain soaked well; or the egregiously stale sump of vituperatively adulterated chemical water surrounding the lavatory seat,

It would make a world of difference; if you left truth to unconquerably triumph in the realms of the Omnisciently blessed conscience; or miserably stashed beneath the entire truck load of currency coin of this endlessly corrupt world,
It would make a world of difference; if you left the peacock to enchantingly dance in the flirtatiously winking meadow; or the derogatorily cigarette laden courtyard of the butcher's raunchy dwelling,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the owl to intransigently stare in the wilderness of the fabulously tantalizing night; or the mournfully flagrant darkness beneath the treacherous corpse,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the polar bear to ebulliently frolic on the slopes of the innocuously snow clad and grand Everest; or the deterioratingly artificial chill of the match-boxed air-conditioner,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the candle to fearlessly enlighten every cranny of the mystically blackened night; or abysmally cadaverous hollow in the lecherously rusted coffin,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the newborn infant in the insuperably godly breast of its mother; or the wretchedly vindictive cradle beside the despondently harried nurse,

It would make a world of difference; if you left breath to euphorically cascade down the quintessentially life-yielding nostrils; or the worthlessly abject pores of the worthlessly decaying skeleton,

It would make a world of difference; if you left the chameleon in the astoundingly vivid camouflage; or the mechanized stripes of lasciviously parasitic color on
the mundanely asphyxiating brick wall,

But it would make not the tiniest of difference ever and at all; if you left the beats of Immortal Love; to throb in the hearts of an organism tall or short; an organism black or white; an organism rich or poor; an organism blind or with sight; an organism fertile or infertile; as long as there was God's blessings upon this Universe; O! Yes, as long as there was God's blessedly bonding and ubiquitously symbiotic life

Monday, February 29, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: spiritual
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Nikhil Parekh

Nikhil Parekh

Dehradun, India
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