Sometimes, A photograph is clicked with a certain thinking, that stirs the mind of the photographer.
My friend Bhavana Nissima posted this photo , with a query , "Where does love exist? Intense and heavy in the moment’s water in a cascading waterfall or in a river alone? In the tree that shapes into a banyan or also in the creeper that bloomed a morning flower?"......
And then age , experience, and attitude, acclimatizes you to finding solutions, answers, and suggestions, and a poem happens.
The fun part is when the photographer seizes the exact meaning you wanted to convey :
"You have teased and opened up the thought, . And repowered a soon-to-wilt flower. There is beauty and grace in all forms...."
Optimism on a Monday morning....
It is
the slow
creeping of the roots
along the soil,
cocking a snook
at its
upwardly mobile brethren
infatuated with
stems and trunks.
A quiet nudging
of buds
along the path,
egged on by
the ever wandering greens,
sometimes bending to whisper
along the ground.
And it is
about the blooming blue,
shrugging off
the monsoon pearl drops,
to concoct
a petrichor fragrance;
its gift
to the budding wandering pink.
But mostly
it's about
an indulgent Earth
looking up at the morning Sun,
and saying,
"Aren't you just
really proud of these two ?"
the slow
creeping of the roots
along the soil,
cocking a snook
at its
upwardly mobile brethren
infatuated with
stems and trunks.
A quiet nudging
of buds
along the path,
egged on by
the ever wandering greens,
sometimes bending to whisper
along the ground.
And it is
about the blooming blue,
shrugging off
the monsoon pearl drops,
to concoct
a petrichor fragrance;
its gift
to the budding wandering pink.
But mostly
it's about
an indulgent Earth
looking up at the morning Sun,
and saying,
"Aren't you just
really proud of these two ?"
Breathtaking photo and equally evocative verse! Wonderful!
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