A Million Small Irritations

Build together into a cloud of resentment
Unspoken, they multiplied
Floating aimlessly, creating restlessness
Blurring the vision, blocking the light
Till one day, they precipitated
Altogether, at one point, one place, one person

A storm ended
Leaving disaster- an uncalled for silence
Neither the sky nor the earth
Neither the rain nor the drenched
Neither the oppressor nor the oppressed
Knows— why this happened?
They were just tools
The parts that played on behalf of

A million small irritations
Who are you?
Little deviations from my idea of how the world ought to be
Little disconnects in values
Little voids of needs unmet
Little thought of anger, hatred, violence

A million small irritations
Where do you come from?
Out beyond my personal journaling
Floating free in the sky
Having power and potent to precipitate
On me or others
Through me or through others
Leaving us both helpless creators of emotional storms

Oh, how I wish to be an autumn tree!

Manish Srivastava

This poem was published in the book Trading Armour for a Flower