Pellucid crystals and saffron stones,

Sugary soil and dying undertones,

I look and look and look

I look at the green stalk turn away,

Besieged by a yellow light,

And the flowery pink

Now a mere grease in my ashtray,

The moonstones are sinking deep

Deeper into the soil

It’s difficult for me to look through,

Oh! I wish it wasn’t this astray.

Guess singing to it wasn’t enough

Neither was talking

So I’m left here thinking about

How poetic it is,

To be poetic about something so miniscule,

And what a pity it is,

To see my life growing old

Through a small terrarium in a glass jar.


– Mira Sehgal, Amity International School, Noida


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