RISE AND FALL OF A MOUNTAIN STREAM

Buoyant with the energy
Of one last powerful push,
The mountain spring,
With a jump of joy,
Escapes the sinister gloom
Of mother earth’s cavernous womb.

To and fro the summit grassland,
Basking with pure delight
In the scatter of bright sunlight,
The watery fledging wanders aimlessly,
Until he, with innate perspicacity
Breaks bounds and is set free.

Euphoric is his ride,
It is good to be alive
To Stumble and tumble without a care,
And suck in the sweet mountain air;
For in his new born innocence
There is nothing to fear,
Or tell him that the end,
Of his bold venture is near.

What joy he has in his bright new world,
Is curtailed, when he, suddenly, hurled
Not into the depths of Mother Earth’s womb
But a stark grotto of a man made tomb,
For low down that perilous incline
Lay in wait, with open mouth, a derelict mine.

To late to hesitate or to cry
He embraces fate with a pitiful moan
And leaves the hill to solitude
And to me alone

A small interval, a joyful dream
The birth and the death
Of an ephemeral stream