Nothing about it is permanent except
Going over edge in the gond land plain
A ninety feet drop in an abyss of spray
A fog of death ‘s hell, a brimstone frame
Serrated like winter sky , a green bush
Hanging slowly, now here , now gone.
Go down to the hellish depths,in its fog.
Look your eyesight up to the pure white
Streak from old sky, a permanent sky
Holding no permanent water ,but a fall
A fall dizzily impermanent, set in blue.
(on a visit to the Chitrakoot waterfall near Jagdalpur in Chattisgarh state)