Thursday, February 21, 2008
By the river
On a stone bench, by the river, I sat.
Indulged and lost in the evergreen smiles
of the trees on the river side.
Not one had a frown,
Neither had one dried and turned brown.
As it had made way sinking its toes in the river’s route,
Blessed were they from the top most branches to the root
The river moved forth roaring in search of its destiny,
To the wide blue ocean through the nearest sea.
While the trees stayed calm and swinging with the wind,
At a place where they’d destined to be.
Birds flew over my head looking down up on me.
Yet I looked up to them hoping
That someday that’s how I wish to be.
Fishes made way through rocks and weeds,
And hid beneath them quickly,
Whenever they saw birds flying low with pointed beaks.
The river gave way to ripples on its surface,
As I skimmed some pebbles.
The oil-on-canvas reflection disrupted,
And returned to form in just a couple of seconds.
If I had my scribble pad,
I’d have opted not to scribble.
Perhaps, set sail a fleet of paper boats,
That would set out on a voyage without oars.
Fortunately or unfortunately it wasn’t so,
And now that moment is captured from memory,
Onto my scribble pad, which you’re reading right now.