Hasty I was,
now more patient I am,
like the glistening drop of dew,
waiting to trickle down the humbling you.

Impulsive I was,
now more passionate I am,
like the artist full with ideas,
waiting to give life to the void of canvas.

Drowsing I was,
now all oneiric I am,
like the wanderer in desert sands
at the sight of an oasis, wanting water in hands.

Doleful I was,
now all hopeful I am,
like the old book in the shelf
wanting to be read, and reader in it losing himself.

Imposing I was,
now accommodating I am,
like the wide and open terrain
collecting every precious drop of rain.

Poor I was,
now affluent with you I am,
like the fields turning green,
after timed, adequate monsoon routine.

What I was,
now, what I am,
is all but because of you –
you’ve made this new me, after you…