Life = Death - Volume 6 - Poems on Life , Death by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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37. DANCE

 

The foliage of  leaves embossed on the maple tree; danced to turbulent currents

of air,

 

The intricate hands of timepiece; danced coherently with the unwinding of

machinery,

 

The crisp sheets of bonded paper; danced frivolously to the scribbling with

writing pen,

 

The placid demeanor of river water; danced sumptuously to vociferous inputs from floating ships,

 

The rusty grey persona of the innocuous donkey; danced in indignation when deliberately kissed by cigarette butt,

 

The succulent fruits high up in the tree; danced in passionate zeal when struck with torrential draughts of rain,

 

The obnoxiously slimy body of tadpole; danced nimbly in fresh ponds of

monsoon water,

 

A plethora of cold blooded criminals victimized common man; danced unrelentingly to fat pads of printed currency,

 

Scores of fragrant roses on the sprawling landscapes; danced when visited upon

by the humming bee,

 

The abhorrent caricature of the wall lizard; danced tantalizingly when it witnessed helpless insects in close proximity,

 

The translucent fountains of water; danced in enchantment when struck with a myriad of opalescent color,

 

The network of cable wires dangling at unprecedented heights in the air; danced in

submission when fed with sumptuous amounts of white electricity,

 

The crystal shard of transparent glass; danced with exuberance when shown illusions

of ravishing beauty,

 

A group of youngsters at the ostentatious disco; danced with boisterous energy after

consuming barrels of intoxicating liquor,

 

The battalion of soldiers clad in neat uniform, danced in organized synchrony as patronizing rhymes diffused from the loud speaker,

 

Infinite souls; danced in solitary confinement even years after the person was buried,

 

The fleet of birds danced tenaciously; high up in the clouds; when granted impetus

by vibrant pouches of  breeze,

 

The prisoner held captive in jail; danced with spurts of anguish when whipped by a belt dipped in onion curry,

 

The animate and inanimate existing; danced onerously in front of God; to get reprieve from tumultuous sorrow,

 

And I danced sporadically to tunes emanating from my heart; with mesmerizing impressions of the girl I loved at close quarters from my face.