A poem on vrishabhavathi

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A poem on vrishabhavathi

  1. 1. Recalling a River Vrishabhavathi, Taking birth in the city at the feet of the Bull temple she secretly flows underground emerges And meanders around tanks, fields, temples, forests and villages. An elixir for the city. Swaying reeds, flourishing farms, sparkling streams, fishes aplenty where Children swim and women mingle as they fill their pots. Temples and legends galore at every ridge and rapid; Her ballet, a riot of colours, flowers, turmeric, vermilion, and oil lamps, celebrating her divinity. Lush fields of rice, ragi and vegetables, ground nuts, coconuts, and areca nuts girdle her grace; birds, butterflies and dragonflies dance to her rippling rhythm.Even as Jasmine, Marigold, Magnolias and Lilies fill the air with their mystic fragrance. Cattle graze on the green grass by her shimmering waters, while dreaming under Tamarind trees
  2. 2. are song filled shepherds.Grasshoppers leap in the morning sunlight, While frogs croak festively by moonlight. Old timers marvel at her beauty Recalling the River’s splendid spray Charming through the land Carving landscapes across time Breathing life all around her Her crystal tide once flowed with pride Over time as the city grew Beyond its reach Cruel in its conquerBuilding on every exposed inch of her frailty never letting her breathe Stagnating here and there she now journeys heavily gathering waste from communities that she once nourished. Captive between bridges and highways speeding cars trampling her splendour choked to the gills toxic as she drifts almost dying, as she unites with the once glorious Arkavathy now merely sand and stone Beyond this the Rivers voyage, dark and gloomy through rocks and thorns, fiery, burning away,
  3. 3. all desires. Yet there is Resilience, to survive, to unite with tenderness, where lilies danced and fireflies glowed, with the life giving, Mother Cauvery. Cauvery moves on in shades of brown, black and muddied hue Swamping paddies and groves, sprinkling droplets on parched throats, Hoping to fill their granaries once more. As seasons change and trees become rare Scorching under the southern sun She travels forlorn. As dams rise tall In vain efforts to stop her flow, Cauvery quietly flows Delivering her promiseIn humble acceptance of her tryst with destiny! . . Bhargavi S.Rao January 2012

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