Bliss by the river

The Ganges flow before my anaemic eyes

Before it is heaved down by millions of hopes at his door

my aqua guitar strings chords of waterfall by my hairy arms
that will echo in my heart years after I abandon this ecstasy
in search of another new found bliss

Steve's son runs after that grey striped cat which hides behind long chairs of woody grass
It no more wants to play with him and perhaps needs some time alone
like all who come here in search of calmness on banks of this river

It climbs up the courtyard where leaves of Jamun tree touch the ground
Steve's son disheartened looks at the cat vanishing in forests with inkling eyes

Voices, pretensions,  pomposity,  perfumes ruin my paradise
Nothing! Nothing!, this night.
Only this night.

I hope.