by Dr. Smita Anand Sriwastav
She
is a blushing bride at dawn, cheeks tinted in cerise with vermilion
streaked between parted locks by fingers of sunshine. There is a
piquant aroma in her breath emanating from morning yawns of tea
leaves. Bejeweled in dew, she wakes up stretching her limbs as
fragrance of withering hursinghars caresses her sleepy contours
waking her with a kiss. Her moods are like the tempest’s whimsy
whose strain echoes in dulcet notes of sitar in the breeze, when
drizzles fall from skies to pepper the trees in wet pecks. She dons
verdant apparel always, draping it over lush realms and her laughter
is heard to reverberate in the rippling gait of the Brahmaputra
cascading down into her embrace with whispered covenants of
fertility. She is a woman through and through painting her versicolor
dreams on the clouds for all to see at dusk. At night she adorns
herself, dreaming of her beloved, in satin quietude and ornaments of
asters and fireflies,
her
raven mane braided in fragrant orchids. The distant blue hills are
her tiara softly glowing in daylight to proclaim her as a queen on
nature’s throne...