Glide in the shades Of Grey

 

Glide in the shades of grey

The grey is never a colour to me;
it's a warmth of a cloud when it hides
the scorching sun in the stride.
It is the teasing gesture of an old child
still hiding somewhere in the wilds.
It's a gentle veil, as here, shimmering behind which is a tint of pink, a casual kiss,
the evening shades of leaves,
the coolness after a storm,
the touch of warmth lingering on the sand
as the children leave to join the band
of the beach crowd, some leaving their spades back in a hurry.
The grey is the love that covers them all.

A Mountain Rivulet

A Mountain Rivulet

In the silent heart of the wilderness
where not a leaf stirs
to echo the sound of the wind,
this rivulet is the sole witness
to her own essence
resonating in the wilds of hills and dales.

A spriteful child, frolicking and springing
in mirthful joy,
like a bambino out to break all bounds,
caressing the silken green in her track,
slipping and sleighing
on the moss-covered rocks,
spouting jets of snowy fountains
as she hits the floor and lets fly sparks,
her presence is life in the sweltering heat
when the summer scorches
here on the heath.

A forest guard with no respite
from the vigil of day and night,
she is the one in the wilderness
who takes the time
to quench the thirst
of the lost and the tired,
whose sorrow and rage
she seals in her heart
and gives them solace and peace in return---
when not a soul is breathing around,
I find this mountain-rivulet
close to my heart
like a soulmate whose love
leaves no  redemption from
the bondage of love
that one carries, feels warm
and would want no freedom
to break away from.