I sit quiet

On a stone structure

Jutting out above the pool.

In the foreground

Wading birds traverse

The lily pond,

Taking leafy, buoyant step

After leafy, buoyant step,

Picking between the protruding buds,

Ever called sunward.

On the far bank,

Peacocks own the roof of the cattle shed.

They strut, then stop,

Heads upturned and necks quivering

And release a warble of throaty calls.

When the moment is right

They extend their plumage,

Turn a full circle on the spot,

Shaking sporadically

As if to summon the gaze of the whole world,

Draw feminine kind to the chalice

Of one hundred iridescent and fine seeing eyes.

–

Beyond the groves of coconuts

And when the mountains rise,

A dense forests climbs steeply

All the way to the clouds,

Disappearing in the mist-shrouded peaks

To collect the silver life of dew drops

From those airy passers by.

And on return

The forest conveys first dampness,

Then sheds trickles and rivulets,

Then further down at the foot of the hills

Streams spill out on to the flat plain

To quench the thirsty farmland,

Where all life bends

Upon their knees

To sip

From cupped and thankful hands.