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