Word Streams

Like a flowing stream your words
Beside which I sit
And scoop the water with hollowed palms,
Or sometimes spread my fingers with delight
To see it trickling, coruscating,
And my hands glistening and wet,
Or watch the gently rolling ripples
Glide across the surface,
Stirred by thoughts from deep within
Or breeze-blown from outside.
 
My hands too small to hold
The vastness of the flow
That reaches back to farthest time,
I will plunge in, immerse myself,
To feel its powerful embrace
Envelop and carry me exhilarated onward,
Fearless of drowning, and with confidence absolute
In the harmony of conjoining currents,
For I too am a stream of words
Irrepressibly pouring.
 

Mira Mehta

in collection, Cascade of Stars, 2002, Shepheard-Walwyn (Publishers) Ltd,
ISBN 0-85683-198-0