It’s a morning like any other morning.
The rising Sun sees the world stirring.
The bell rings, and it’s the milkman.
The tea’s brewing; the egg’s in the pan.
Right next door, Mrs. Sawant is awake
Ready to begin her yoga and pilates.
Down the street, one hears a bell ring
As Mrs. Desai performs arti and sings.
The road is full of people on their way,
And Mr. Sabharwal is also one of them.
Racing against the clock to reach office,
He boards the bus driven by Mr. Tiwari.
The difference among them all is evident
In culture, race, language, and religion.
Yet, when I consider all these from afar,
I think about the sky full of little stars.
Each star twinkles with its tiny light
Contributing to the beauty of the night.
Never do they fight among themselves
As they shine on together like equals.
And far away, in another distant galaxy,
Any star gazer would think similarly.
The boundaries that we let divide us
Are so puny in this grand Universe.
Can we not learn from the night sky
That lets each star beam its own light
Realizing that each gleam is important,
And by doing so, achieves perfection?
Is it too difficult for us to comprehend
That each one of us is made different
Not to compete, but to complement
Like the stars glowing in the firmament?
We’re all pieces of a giant mosaic
And everyone’s needed to complete it.
Each one’s created with a unique design,
Yet connected by the tapestry of life.
wordsofhope 