Trees around the water holes
Wild winds blow free
Carrying a roar, sometimes
a trumpet to the mountains.
Flutter of wings race with the
unruly grunts from among the green grass.
Bamboo groves lost
In creating a symphony
Pairs of colours dancing in rhythm
Butterflies in sunshine.
Cicadas never silent, the dampness
of the rain forest itch their throat.
Water falls in deafening decibels
Million droplets blanket the space.
Dear calls and a langur replies
from a tree top; a striped prowl is on
Doe eyes twitch, leap dart and the
herd flies over the meadow.
The voices of the forest turn into a music
Inviting the valley below.
They come, clear their way
Dry every dampness, machines growl
Rivers shrink in fear
New voices shiver the valley
Earth trembles, towers rise to sky
Voices reply from the mountain
Flooding rivers gush, slopes slide in mud
Crashing hills bid goodbye to the valley
Its voice is now a cry.
This poem was published in Brahmand environmental e-magazine in July 2022