Water

Water- C. Acharya


Bowls of many colours, shapes and sizes.
Water is quiet still.
For birds that swim and clean,
Drink it pure, and
Rain that drips from the buggy clouds,
Fall on mountains, plains, river valleys.
But water flows to the underneath,
Down with the steeps.
For stones that break and soil,
Sweet it pure.
Oceans that we see, saline or salty,
Are tears of earth,
On which things float or,
Get down deep to hide from
Fishermen above the pirate ship.

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