Looking down at the river’s crystal surface,
No sign we see of its flow
A drop of a pebble, the echoing swallow of its dip,
Reminds us, it breathes too, and lives.
Its a night quieter than any, for we breath within ourselves
An unspoken silence reigns unanimously
In front of us, before our eyes, and not above
Hangs dully a pale silver orb, passing reflected glory
No hands can move, no fingers pick stones
Transfixed by nothingness, we watch held in our peace
No voice does break, nor a wind does blow,
Time too is resting between us now.
A trail of light shines on that river below,
The lit water shifts randomly, uncomfortably,
As if tossing in disturbed slumber
And wanting only to be left alone this night.
Above us lies a world we could never imagine
Swirling clouds of grey, thin and wasted
Shimmering points of light dancing in ancient forms From centuries before, on till forever.
We try to give them names, and make them ours
They smile down and indulge our curiosities
Do they know of how we call them ours, to conquer and hold one day?
And so do they just let us live on, in our short-lived games?
The sound of an engine from afar
It breaks this stream and turns us around
Through the leaves, the lights shine
The arc widens and the train screams past.
We don’t see it from our station
For we sit, supported, below the bridge
The mighty beast passes over us, unnoticing,
Shaking us back to a sudden life.
-Nishant Jain
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