A Talk with the River : "That is why I Dance"

About the poem: That is why I Dance is a discussion between a river and the poet. A day in my imagination when I was searching for purpose of life, I had a talk with river and asked her question about purpose of her life. Read this poem to know what she replied to me.
I presented this poem at Penguin India Spring Festival on the 25th anniversary of Penguin India. Hope you like this poem.

Born in the auspicious lap of mountains,

River, where you go; over peaks and plains?

She curled and twirled, blushed and then smiled,

She kissed my feet and ran into the wild.

Gorgeously she took curve, to jump over the cliff,

Thunder song she sang, repeated with the riff,

Oscillated white lilies, dearly grown on stones,

Delighted swans swam, glided on your tones.

In your rhythmic walk, from town to town,

Through narrow valleys, and then deep down,

Dance of thy streams, like waves of damsel hair,

Sashay way you walk, like ballet dancer flair.

Birds, trees and human, beast, brute and nature,

Blessed all with your love, you never ask for favor,

What makes you to travel, generous and so kind?

Carry silence in motion, what you want to find?

One crave in my heart, one wish like a fire,

Destiny of my being, the only one desire,

Thousands miles far, lies there my devotion,

I was born to conflate, to meet my soul-mate ocean.

The Piano Girl

She was alone and she was gifted. She could stop the world from her music. She lonely used to play her piano in her little shelter by side of river. I, every day listened her music and every time I heard, I was lost.
I am once again lost when she does not play anymore. God knows where she has gone. But wherever she is, her music always echoes in my ears and steps down into my soul. I miss the girl with the piano.

I knew a damsel, in my neighborhood,
Her hut was across; in meadows, past wood
Magic in pinkish fingers, pre-blessed by God
Which became preternatural, by nature’s applaud.

Her fingers flew, on keys like breeze
Birds stopped chirping, rivers did freeze
She had no companion, to listen to her song
Lonely played harmony, and sobbed along.

One day I by chance, happened to listen her tune
“Collect firewood,” when mother ordered; my fortune!
Arpeggios; born in piano, sailed through on air,
Melodious than an ode, delicious than éclair.
Stood I un-blinked, forgot heart to pound,
Earth impeded to gyrate, heavenly soothing sound.

That was the day, and the day is this
I went every day, none chance did I miss
Indulged in her music, lost in compositions
Between me and her, piano became preposition
That was a day, and a day is this
Where is she gone? Crave! How much I miss.
Some say she sings in the court of heaven
Some said her songs were the holy daven.

Wherever ye hath gone, I feel thy harmony
Aft never heard, that marvelous symphony.

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