The Confluence

A mighty river,
a flowing handsome
mass,
And a coy rivulet, smitten by him,
Have a story to tell, so lo and behold.

She raced to touch him,
To slide over his highs and lows,
She danced on alluvial banks with joy,
As she neared him;
Foaming, rippling over the pebbles,

And the time came,
The river ever so stoic,
And she, her eccentric heart beats,
the waves touched the sky;
And the thoughts overflowed,
filled in the dark crevices on the land;

And in a confluence,
When the waters were one,
Her warmth simmered his cool waters,
And her gait, gave an impetus,
To his monotony.

But fate had something else in plan,
In a trifle, a tumult,
They diverged,
She tried hard to hold on,
Clasped his hands tight,
But suddenly felt something amiss,
His grip wasn’t firm,
And as the warmth rose in her,
She realised that it was always her who wanted this.

So she let go, slowly,
And the waters parted,
So did their ways;
She didn’t weep, she was strong,
And sometimes, letting go is strength.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Confluence

  1. And yet the confluence is only begun,
    For they must meet again some day.
    And when they reach road’s end,
    Perhaps peace might slow their faltering hearts.

    Beautiful poem, Aishwarya. Loved it.

Like it? Don't like it? Comments, critiques and compliments welcome :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s