The Drops by Shinjini Pandya SignUp
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The Drops
by Shinjini Pandya
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  There was this bird..
flittering quiet alone
then she came across a running stream
full of thoughts magic and gurgling quietness
overflowing with abundant joy and mirth
in a quiet wooded spot over the hills and beyond
flowing determined royally
unmoved unattached
so happy to rest and flow
to constantly happily
positively exist
teaching the bird to be happy content
being itself is what it taught the bird
to exist
seeing its immense beauty
the bird chirped on the tree branch near it
made its nest there
overlooking its mystical ambivalence
purity
playfulness
wildness
quietness
it brought so much joy in the birds life
which it never saw before-never
and her meaning of existence changed
she began to see her flaws
her shallowness
the restless in her abided
and life became paradise
she frittered hovered around the stream
knowing only one thing
it never wanted to leave
it wanted to take in all its beauty in her
being
and the stream was just itself
it accepted her the way it accepted its surroundings
in time they became close
she would chirp and the stream
would keep its course
cascading as usual
they shared the quiet surrender of nature
took in the unique scents of nature
worshiped the tranquility and peace and joy of their surroundings
so beautiful was the harmony
the togetherness
of their separate existence
yet they shared so much
she revered the stream
for it was worth worshiping
it had the essence of life
it had the joy of paradise
it had everything in this world
all nut shelled within
it crystallized the beauty of the world
it had stories pain mirth and joy
it had suffering and happiness and abundant love
it was everything the bird wanted
but never knew existed
and she worshiped it
in spite of her herself
too much perhaps
because she knew that
her moments were
short lived precious
and she was conscious of that all the time
it was painful and blissful and fulfilling
and pure
soon she thought she was part of the stream
she dipped in the water with her beak
the water was warm and cold
sweet and magically salty
rare
and she never left
she is still there
sitting on that lone tree above the lone icicle
even on a warm summer day
she remains there
with the streams beauty
basking in the sun
drenching in the rain
freezing on a cold snowy night
the stars come and go
the moon and sun are her well wishers too
she loves the stream always
it is a part of her being
she is the stream now
for in her are
its drops...

November 11 ,2001
More by :  Shinjini Pandya
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Solitude and other poems by Rajender Krishan
 


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