Water, water, water everywhere –
on paper, silver screen and computer –
but not even a drop to nurture.
In the desert sand dunes where
a soul sustains on moisture in air,
but a mind here chases mirages everywhere.
In the twilight zone of the poles
where dolphins go merry making,
its cosy igloo waiting for sunrise.
In my Sahyadri’s jungle, vanishing
now under your rule, it pours and runs,
blesses everyone on its way.
In your urban jungle it’s imprisoned
in conventions, released by taps
and packages that I can’t afford.
I never knew how it manipulates
me, my culture and my relation
with everything, in sublime silence,
from grasses lowly to gods – to air,
never knowing love is yet another
name of water that contains fire.
© Remigius de Souza., All rights reserves.