Poem---the power of small

In the nature’s womb, deep in a valley,
There was a waterfall.
At the bottom there lay a Rock,
bigger, stronger, mightier than all.

The rock used to laugh on the splashing drops
::”thinking what they dash against me?”
But the drops won’t mind the pain, and they;
shall fall, as they should be.

It lay there but lonely, for
very rough was it to trudge on.
Sad, but still proud, laid there the rock
as time passed and passed for long.

Until a young kid passed by,
Searching for a place to sit,
Chose that rock of all,
As a place where he would keep his feet.




In long sought a company merry
Of the young boy’s feet, and music from his flute.
Revelled the stone:
“what suddenly made me so likable from so brute?”


And smoothening the roughness were there
The drops that glided by.
Nothing could have brought this change
But for their persistent try.

Most beautiful changes can be brought
Not always from the mighty,
As from the meek.
A little girl, though small and powerless
Can still change you by a
Kiss on your cheek.