have long admired the waterfalls.
Now, I sit on a tree trump, adjacent
to a hilly scenic view to savour
its awe-inspiring landscape,
a beautiful sight to behold
and it makes one pause in wonder.
Before the waterfalls, I look solemn
as if enveloped in thought,
dazed, as if bereft of ideas,
as I watch nature's handiwork
cascades down from the cliff
in sparkling silvery colour
and empties into the bubbling river below
in a thunderous music of calm
that soothes jitters and jaded nerves.
It spreads wet winds, spiced
with lovely smell to me,
to the wood and moss.
The music from the splashing rhythm
echoes and swells the sky
with the flavour and cadence of folk song
but not good for graceful dance.
And from the distant horizon
thunder battles with lightning
but I care not a hoot
for their tussle for supremacy.
A twittering bird sings, not far
from where my temporary abode dwells.
Within the vicinity of the waterfalls,
a longing soul is satisfied.
This awesome place should know no sadness
because it gladdens peoples heart,
totally far from heart gladdened by wine.
Alone in the scene, I do not feel lonely or blue.
A great treasure should remain hidden
but not to those who know the worth.
Night is casting its shadow upon the day.
Darkness summons a menageries of creatures
that slither, leap and buzz through the forest.
I have to take exit before nocturnal creatures
start to feel uncomfortable with my unhallowed steps
into their exclusive sanctuary.
In appreciation, I prostrate in admiration
of mother nature's mystery.