Arching their sodden backs.
Riding on crests of hail-storms.
Surfing through trapezing winds.
Sprinting, somersaulting.
Raindrops gather to make deep puddles!
Dancing in front of me.

 

To define the pace
Of their dance,
Raindrops in no time,
Will make ponds deep enough,
To grow and sun:
White lilies of my pure-scented dreams...

 

Where my dream boat will arrive!
To float and rock,
With rhythm,
In the sanctum of my heart,
Carry me ashore,
Where my sweet lover, dreams!

 

 

Mumbai
1997

 

Geeta Chhabra

 

From the book: No Journey Ends by Geeta Chhabra