Reference: Priya Kavithakal by Green Books.
The words that carried,
The pain of mind,
Gauging the heartbeats
Of the River Ganges.
Sleepless nights need
Not to be in the boiling Ganges.
Every single karma designed,
Would it drain from the veins,
By washing in the Ganges?
In fury, in care, in fire, in madness,
In learning, in sculpture,
In nature's hunger, in plants,
In love with seeing the mother,
Burned the mind, melted
and flowed the words.
Be it in the small plants.
Or in the wildness of the Taj Mahal,
In the sun and moon,
Witnessing the magic,
The words of light,
Removed the mask,
Walking back home in the dark.
Wish to flow back,
From the dry river Ganges
To the boiling river Ganges.
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