The Pail Of Rapture… Amar Singh

A faint light emerges from behind the care of the mountain ,

Loaded with unfading memories it comes from a small fountain,

A waterfall has traversed over the dry terrain,

Hopefully it runs throughout the year to meet little rain.

On the bank of the waterfall the sound of an anklet reverberates,

While through the foliage the melodious voice penetrates,

Dancing of the restless girl defeats their purpose,

How beautifully it sends the two players to the repose.

The jocund boy from the sky reflects his own golden light,

And catches the thrilling eyes of nature with a sight,

In the morning he becomes the master of activeness,

In the evening he hastily wears the garment of passiveness.

In the lap of nature she firmly occupies her strength,

A moving glacier is swiftly passing in length,

No camera has the capability of capturing its picture,

The plenty of water is stored in the pail of rapture.

Who can stands there to get allured by her beauty,

Like a mother and a daughter the waterfall sets an example of amity,

In twenty four hours she continues her innovative dance,

Who dares to cross her way to observe romance.

20/6/2026

(C) India.

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