Water
What to say......time itself knows
it's the inner soul which bows
for the water in rivers when it glows
where it runs with a pace not so slow.
Then comes the mist n the fog
which falls on another side of log
in it's other form it touches the surface with a slog
as if runs a person in his clogs
Bringing a ray of great hope
for the coming time's hurdles to cope
resembling a horse's lope
it's a true form of rope
The grace of a raindrop when it falls
it's like a feeling as if our heaven calls
all of them r like miniature balls
creating huge n live walls
It's nature makes me thrilled
taking the vessel's shape in which it is filled
whether it is warm or is chilled
makes me think how can it be so skilled
makes me think how can it be so skilled
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