acting so strong
fearless about their existance,
planning for long
Some gushng in full speed
some riding slow
some larger in size, and some,
yet need to grow
Some dipped in elegance
reflecting the rainbow
Some are so insignificant,
that they have nothing to show
But they all are proud
They all exist
even if a few get along
separations persist
a thin shield of water,
only thing to separate
Each one is same
but different in shape
From somewhere comes the wind
with a peck of dust
It hits one of those elegant ones
and compells it to burst
Alas! where has the elagance gone
what with the pride?
shape is no more
all washed in a tide
So what with the bubble?
is it dead?
Or did it just change its form
and its route to tread?
Ofcourse the existance is gone
but just of that form
the air which was trapped
is now a free storm!
The thin water shield
now lays in the mud
relaxing in formlessness
or, may be feeding a bud!
But the bubble is right there
its not gone
so what if not as a bubble?
so what in a different form?
and some day it may happen,
we never know
that same pinch of water
through a pipe shall blow
and the same bit of air
may catch it and roll
and in same shape that bubble
will again play its role!
In the world full of mortals
like bubbles we flow,
what actually is the truth,
we never know!
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