A River's Lament

Our childhood summer holidays

unquestionably ended in the folds 

Of the warm golden sand,

Laced by the dark meandering river.

Our hearts tugged out of it's ties

To see the glorious sun 

Melt into the stretches of sand 

Spreading to an unseen horizon.

Plunging down into the sandy ripples

Our hands busy , moulding,digging, reshaping,

creating a world around us,

Only to be crumbled  in no time.

Finally to blissfully glide 
into the warm currents,
surrendering to the nudging drifts,
of the playful river.

The river still flows by my village, like a widow.
In vain do I search,for a strip of sand.
The sandy banks nowhere to be found,
Probably martyred in the name of development.

Nevertheless, with a semblance of tranquility,
The river moves on,
drenched in the mire of agony.
Oh! Had we the eyes to see her desolation!