Twilight darkens,
And she springs in joy
Of a myriad praises that befall.
She, the Sabarmati,
Flows across the city,
Barely eyed at day, [and
But] Adored as the day would fall.
She spreads like a smile
Across her banks; chaste.
Somewhere she does flow
Into the sea; yet serene,
Like she has always been;
Obscured of haste.
I watch her flow,
For hours and hours,
To see if I’m like her.
Someday when I go,
I’ll be with her;
Like a son long lost
Reunited with his mother.
Jul 19, 2016
Jul 19, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Twilight darkens,
And she springs in joy
Of a myriad praises that befall.
She, the Sabarmati,
Flows across the city,
Barely eyed at day, [and
But] Adored as the day would fall.
She spreads like a smile
Across her banks; chaste.
Somewhere she does flow
Into the sea; yet serene,
Like she has always been;
Obscured of haste.
I watch her flow,
For hours and hours,
To see if I’m like her.
Someday when I go,
I’ll be with her;
Like a son long lost
Reunited with his mother.
Sabarmati is one of the major rivers in the western part of India. Originating in Rajasthan, a major part of the river flows through Gujarat and into the Arabian Sea. I have spent three beautiful years in places on the banks of and around this serene river. Hence this poem.
Published under the same title in Vol. 2 Issue 2 of The Literary Voyage (ISSN 2348-5272).
Muralidar S. ©
