water and stones

A stone holds its stories,
and rivers hold stones.
This one, striped
by Shiva's ardour
for Narmada,
still tastes of her water,
still moves with her current.

A child named Saffron gave me
this one, a humble lump
of sandstone coloured
yellow with chalk.
I keep it in a potted plant,
water it in, feeding

the life beneath it with
the creator's pure delight.