A poem should be soundless as the flight of birds...A poem should be equal to not true....A poem should not mean but be.

Forbidden fountain

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A long walk uphill
Tiring but adventurous
Slowly and steadily
Up we went, until tired
And exhausted with thirst
We rested beside a fountain
Which was forbidden as we knew
Dared none to drink
Even a droplet from that fountain
The fountain was beautiful
Flowing down gracefully
I thought if I were to fall
From the top of a hill
I would love to imitate as he does
So pure, so loyal, so forceful
And droplets that sprang from it
Created a rainbow so colorful
 Making the surroundings awesome
And spellbound  we were all.
There was so much of water
But not a drop to drink
I thought God is so weird
So much the fountain gave
But can’t  be touched and felt
As forbidden was the fountain
But I suppose to make people revere
And to preserve its purity
That gracious, forceful fountain
but was forbidden for me .


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Dinita Rai
J P Sharma Road