Lockdown Thanksgiving

The months some time back

Tested the loop of patience

Patience, which has to be sewn 

To play the years of life in hand 

With a still tune.

My profession post lockdown 

Seeks calm in town

The stethoscope keeps reminding 

me my attitude,

As the green leaves now, manured 

then with solitude.

But somewhere amidst the green leaves 

A bud seemed peeping 

Unable to decide, the worth of its petals 

Albeit it stopped weeping.

The petals so serene,

Were her words of gesture 

Ready to wean,

When Storymirror, lend its ears 

To groom the words of ecstasy,

Or wipe the words of tears.

A change negligible for some,

But huge for me

My words now are my life jacket

To keep me afloat in this world's   racket.