There was a river, near my village home
a perennial silver memory of my childhood
in which my mind still in hallucinations swims,
a life line once ,no more exists, because of our sins
alas no one recognized her might,when she was
alive and full, roared tigress like through ravines.
From above the hills, a girdle of gleaming silver
comely like a village belle on her way to the market,
in that jungle village they never noticed her charm
or the amble through rocky paths and an occasional prance
From the hill roaring aloud she jumped down,
ran through the sand bed in mirth, on both sides
coconut groves and rice fields performed welcome dance,
but times changed, they daily removed sand in truck loads
as we watched in pain the river turned to a mere rivulet
one day the river became a myth, a tearful story to tell.
There was a river once for our childhood whims to swim
for beauty in the form of lush green to come, stay near the stream
a river of plenty that we thought was ours for all the times to come
it's now a distant memory, seems like an unreal sad dream.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
There was a river, near my village home
a perennial silver memory of my childhood
in which my mind still in hallucinations swims,
a life line once ,no more exists, because of our sins
alas no one recognized her might,when she was
alive and full, roared tigress like through ravines.
From above the hills, a girdle of gleaming silver
comely like a village belle on her way to the market,
in that jungle village they never noticed her charm
or the amble through rocky paths and an occasional prance
From the hill roaring aloud she jumped down,
ran through the sand bed in mirth, on both sides
coconut groves and rice fields performed welcome dance,
but times changed, they daily removed sand in truck loads
as we watched in pain the river turned to a mere rivulet
one day the river became a myth, a tearful story to tell.
There was a river once for our childhood whims to swim
for beauty in the form of lush green to come, stay near the stream
a river of plenty that we thought was ours for all the times to come
it's now a distant memory, seems like an unreal sad dream.
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