One warm night
the ice broke down
through the rocks and crevasses
it gushed down the rugged lane
silver ice melting into muddy water
what good did that do?
Only that it holds life in it now.
Fighting against all the adversities
until it lost it's identity to the ocean
what good did that do?
It became a path for the seeker of distant lands
And then it flew towards the sky
no one saw it disappear
what good did it do?
When it pored down thundering with life.
Of all the things it chose to be
Not once did it think of itself
and in that sacred thought, was it's being.
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