Thousands of leaves may fall off a tree
but to one out of the many that is falling
red, yellow, and brown edged, it would matter
more than to the others
if by some mysterious force
it became somehow imbued
with the consciousness of being parted from the branch.
So it was that long ago miners in the south of Bharath found a stone
blue as the sky on a dark morning before a storm
a stone unpolished and uncut, by no human yet worn
and they took it to the stone cutter, hoping to give it a form.