Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Rivulet

The rivulet flows
above the hard rocks,
meandering, snaking
through the beaten tracks and trails
scraping them slowly,
turning stone to sand
with tenacity, persistence, sheer will.
Just like love
flowing through the skin
mingling into arteries,
veins and capillaries,
seeping in to the heart,
and gradually penetrating,
soaking the soul
through and through.
Impervious?
There is no such thing.
The swirls, the twirls,
they leave their marks,
folds and wrinkles.
The contours on surface,
the chemistry in depths,
fuse together,
blend, interblend,
sedately, unhurriedly
permeate every single pore,
saturate the very being.
The rivulet flows, just like love.

1 comment:

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.