The walls were of stone. Black in patches, but cold unvaryingly. The light was dim but not enough to subdue the tufts of fresh green moss that grew in places. It was baby moss that was soft, young, pliant and unabashedly green.
There was silence. Water-drop silence!
The white porcelain bowl sat in the middle of the circular room. It was almost to the brim with the clearest water. The water had the white of the bowl, the green of the moss and the black of the stone-cold walls.
The bowl had a world of ripples in it. At the tiny crack in the roof above, a string of drops awaited their turn to dive into the porcelain bowl. Melody!
As the drops fell, they were pierced mid-way by a solitary ray of light. They glistened before they fell. It was a brilliant display of sparkle before they lost themselves forever in the bowl that was their sea.
They were lost but found…each one of them.
3 comments:
Poetry in motion :)
Ridhi...hey!!! Surprise surprise but so pleasant :)
silence~~~
pin drop~~~
clock stop!!!
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