Walking

The waters walked slowly, from the red mountains
Entering the parched plains, with wind on their backs.
Their forked snake tongues proceeded smoothly,
Exploring, gently patting short grasses on their heads
And feeling for living creatures, thingy existences
Under the sky and on the earth, brown with the sun.

The mountains bled with muddy water in their hearts
And renewed the lives of our rivers for one more year.

Stones

We were surrounded by stones, in steep steps,
And taken by surprise, in their sun hues and sky
Climbing the sky like birds to the sun in clouds,
White fluffy clouds that came from somewhere
From beyond the west hills, for just a day’s rain.

Rain spoiled them, blurring outlines luxuriously
To make them glisten like silks, finery of wedding.
Bush and tree towered over them stifling their souls
As they sat cowering in dread of their aliveness.

We were two, me and shadow, against their many.
Beyond the bush and fire, a black- ash stubble
Shone on stones covered in last year’s dry grass.