The Story of a River

a poem by Sheela Chalapathi ramananda, India

Then.....

Springing as a fountain
I flow down the mountain.
Streaming down the rocky terrain
I gush forth to the vast plain.


I am filled with mirth
As I grow in girth
Giving life to God's creatures
I abide by His strictures.


The sparkling,golden sunrays
Add a glitter to my face.
I reflect the colours and moods
of the seasonal changes of the woods.


The tall,hoar trees
With a canopy of leaves
Nod and smile with affection
At their beautiful reflection.


Now....

Springing as a fountain
I flow down the mountain
Streaming down the rocky terrain
I gush forth to the vast plain.


But I am filled with sadness
Looking at man's madness
Almost all of God's creatures
Are replaced by cement structures.


The sparkling golden sunrays
Cannot beautify my polluted face.
I sadly reflect only one colour and mood
The grey soot and mire of factories rude.


The tall,dingy,multistoried buildings
With a canopy of ugly hoardings
Grimace with frustration
At their own ugly reflection.


'

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