I saw you, mother, how you gush
from the frozen heights of silent hush
so pure and sure how you descend
and grow in flow with every bend
and how you hum your timeless drone
while carving channels into stone

I saw you, mother, how you rush
to give the land below its lush
and with a gentle loving roar
to reach your children at your shore
who wash their flesh and ash immerse
and adorn you with their flowers, filth and verse

I felt you mother, how you touched
longing lands for so long parched
and with flow so mild or flood so wild
the hardened heart of your little child
old dust and sorrow to take with thee
and drown them with you in the sea

– Mukul Fishman.


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