Theme: Belonging

By The Rivulet

by K.S. Subramanian
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A hesitant drizzle here 
or a patter a little later, 
rain is a purveyor of mood hues. 
Clouds too snort in dismay 
at its slow drip of munificence. 
As if acting on cue it opens 
into a relentless downpour. 
Then rivulets brim, canals breach
the banks, dams knock at the gates! 
Then edgy heart cries 
"stop this nagging roar".
But the heart, strangely enough, 
has no banks or is dammed.
It flutters when the sky is 
beaming blue, sparse white patches, 
expecting the day to unclasp
rosy vibes; or the dusk will 
fall with a parting, gleaming gift. 
En route is the paved way of 
prickly thorns; Heart trots to the 
steady tip-toeing of the wall clock! 
Then it cries "stop this claptrap".
I love the silent, tranquil gurgle
of the rivulet where pebbles shine.


More By  :  K.S. Subramanian

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