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,
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
From cupped and thankful hands.