The Gift Of My Life Poem by Ravi Panamanna

If a piece of ore of gold has a tale to tell the world, the tale may resemble like this: -
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Far away from winds and peeping rays,
Upon the bosom of mother earth,
For ages I was a sleeping stone,
A golden mine for the hunting world.

And my gates for eons were silent;
No footsteps ever reached a mile so deep.
A dateless life was my fate
Moonless centuries were the annals of my life.

And one day a knock reached my doorstep,
It hunched my ribs; I was thrown.
Was it the gushing waters swallowing me?
Else, a gale crushing my bones?

Before me was a man made cave,
The first wind of life crept into my nerves.
And a man marked my premises;
He cut my umbilical cord with great care.

And I left my vales, dear home forever;
To gold I was eventually broken.
The flesh in me was gifted to a lass
And the rest in me withered in the winds.