Friday, December 7, 2007


The rumbling rivulet
Snaking its way down the hill
Immerses the pebbles in an ethereal space.
Glistening rays of the noon sun
Sparkle in the water with a spectrum of colors

Clearly and stain free are the pebbles washed
A low noise of splash
Twigs and leaves happily float away

The leaves of the trees
Cast a design with their shadows
They touch the water as little hands
feeling it like joyous children.

The dry leaves as the ships
And the ants as captains
A fleet descends
Goes round over the puddle
As if carrying cartographers

But a cascade they realise is down that way
The ants jump in frenzy and swim to the shore
The dry leaves half dead
Do not care anymore .

They wish to fill their spasmodic hearts
With the last image of the trees
For they would come back in lush green
To enjoy the same beautiful scene.

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