A Leaf and the Stream

A-leaf-and-a-stream

I have often thought of the streams that rush by amidst the rocks and stones and the lush green bushes. It seems to me that their journey is so beautiful, proud and modest at the same time. Proud because it seems that their course weathers away the biggest rocks, smooth-ens all rough edges in the way. At the same time it is so modest as it silently flows on, without much clatter and in a moment reaches beyond our vision.

Once when I was travelling to a mountain destination and the roads winded up to the horizon. It seemed like the rounded staircase reaching up to the distant clouds and I fascinated that therein lies all the fairy tales I’ve read as a child and believed it to be true.So there was an unknown stream that accompanied our journey and as the bus turned bends in the way, my eyes chanced to catch a glance of a leaf, dark green,fresh from its fall flowing in the stream. I didn’t quite guess the origin of the leaf, I can’t much identify a leaf, my knowledge of plants being poor. But it looked so beautiful.

I thought about the sight much after, suddenly, when one day I was in my study and reading Shelley’s “Ode To the West Wind”, I read the line, “Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!”. Though in a complete different context, it somehow brought back to my mind the sight of the leaf I saw floating in the ripples of the water. I felt like writing a poem then, so I kind of pictured the sight I saw during the day amidst the distant slopes of the mountains, in the colours of night. Thought of sharing the same over here.

A Leaf and the Stream

Whispering streams,

Gliding by,

And the moon,

Lighting up the Heaven above.

While cloud-lets like angel-wings,

Cuddling beside the silvery orb,

It traces a maze on the rivulet below,

Shades and glow-

The glittery water whispering tales along the way;

And if you look in a glance,

There might be a floating leaf,

Boating itself down the rustling water

Amidst the sneaky stones, that clogs its way;

And then again resuming its float,

Sometimes in a whirl,

At times in a twirl,

Floating by.

“No wonder it has lost its road-map,” I thought

But then the leaf is a part of the river that way…

Endlessly united,

Rather united in their endlessness.

Then I was at peace.

As I knew at once that

Amidst all impermanence

I could still stay the same

Still united, still close

A leaf in the stream…together, even beyond our vision goes.

Do share your own little snippets of random poetry that would sure be a good read

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