The Stillness of Rivers

It is neither morning nor night
I am wide awake and the river
is flowing back —
quiet, quiet, always quiet.

The moon has left, yet again.
The water is still.

Another river softly flows —
like a whisper
A cold pebble turns warm
in my soft palm.


I’ve been told some of my poems are too abstract. For me, though, these are the ones that are most cathartic.

The beauty of poetry, or any art form, is that it is open to multiple interpretations. Let the words take you where they will. Happy flowing!



4 thoughts on “The Stillness of Rivers

  1. Yes, Ma’am, true…we interpret what we perceive or feel that moment in time..nice work , the quite background, it’s calm, poet ka mood achha hai😊👌👌👌


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