Moments Reserved for Those Who Dare
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White ribbon waterfalls stream down black basalt rocks
And embellish green misty mountains.
Children and aged parents, at the foot of the mountain
Sit with feet in the cool streams, splash each other, stars in their eyes.
We walk upstream toward a white curtain of water
And sit on boulders with our feet in the gushing white surf.
The spray gifts us tiny pearls for our hair while the mist envelops us.
Just ahead is the plunge pool of the waterfall,
Shallow at the sides and deep toward the centre.
Revellers frolic in the pool, their legs
Buoyed up by the force of the water
That crashes down the rocky overhanging outcrop.
The adventurous ones sit right under the central channel
Screaming when taken by surprise
By the varying intensity of the streaming waters.
A man sits in a trance like Lord Shiva
Under the white waters with hands on knees
And one foot resting on the other,
His mind tranquil amidst the noisy revellers.
Steeling our nerves, we sit under the central stream.
Gasping for air, we experience the brute strength of the waterfall.
The water is unrelenting, like needles streaming onto bare skin.
One cannot see, hear, feel or think of anything
But the mighty Presence of the water, sweet to the tongue.
Wispy clouds now drift in low and the rain intensifies.
The plunging waters rush onto the rocks
In a resounding yet soothing white noise.
It is icy cold now and a light breeze
Makes us shiver and our teeth chatter.
We move up the rocks to a ledge on the mountain
Behind the waterfall, where roasted gram,
Peanuts, bhel, and tea are being sold.
The mist is blown down into the valley after a while.
We see the bright green expanse of the paddy fields
And the shimmering silver of the monsoon abundance
Spread out before us like an ethereal painting.
Past noon we move back into the central stream
To relive the pleasure of the pounding water once more.
Stepping carefully down the slippery rocks into the plunge pool
We sit on the small rocks in it, our legs afloat.
We splash each other shielding our ears and children once more.
When it’s time to leave, we trudge back,
Turning to look at the seasonal waterfall
That had created a reservoir of memories.
A few of those moments were caught on camera.
But the drumming on the back, head and shoulders
Cannot be shared; they are mystical moments
Reserved for those who dare.
Need more nature-themed indulgence? Find these poems, stories, and more for your refreshment!
- Breath of Nature – Nature Poetry Special
- Almost Paradise – Creative Gardener Fiction
- This Land Which Built Me – Poetry
- My Favorite Things – Storm Season
- Elizabethan Sonnet for Autumn – A Poem
- From the Mountaintops: Five Hikes for Inspiration – Fitness for Creatives
- Nature’s Whispers of Colours – A Poem
- The Llama You’ll Never Know – Humorous Travel Essay
- Flood Plain – A Poetry Reading
- It’s Raspberry Season! – Creative Nonfiction
- Friends – Poetry
Elizabeth Vincent Koshy
Dr. Elizabeth V. Koshy is a Professor of English Literature at Dr. A.B. Telang Senior College, Pune, India. Her poems have been published in print and online in edited anthologies, journals and magazines. Her poem 'The Mystical Conjunction' was selected by Sweetycat Press for 'The Jewels in the Queen's Crown' anthology in the 24 K Gold category. Her poem 'I'm in Love With the Wind ' was selected as 'Publication of the Month' at Spillwords for the month of October '23. An Interview has been published in the 'Spotlight on Writers' at Spillwords, January '24.
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