Walk in the elephanta grass, you feel
The nuances of these wild surroundings
Sunrays filter through the leafy trees.
Misty morning waking up slowly
Whose creature is the curve in the wood?
You ponder for a moment and move along
Till reach near the lean river and look at
The water washes white cobbles and pebbles.
The sound of waterfall nearby break the silence
Is there a barking dear behind the bush?
Or else the twitching voice of hornbill
And whistling till at a distance. Standing on
The wooden bridge built centuries ago
You go back to the glorious past and cry.
Teardrops wither in the morning glow
You promise again to bring changes in life.
Gopal Lahiri
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