Have these waters of the Ganges <br />been flowing down the memory <br />for small change? <br /> <br />In these wet bones I see the winter <br />of a dead man's eyes, he could have <br />sailed my blood. <br /> <br />Have these ghats burnt their dead in waste? <br />Ashes blow the air, fall in the eye <br />of the spread peacock feathers <br />searching first rain <br /> <br />as the boat drifts ashore, <br />A white flower floating on the water <br />is a translucence of God. <br /> <br />[Poet's notes: Ghats are a broad flight of stone steps upon the riverbank of the Ganges in Varnasi. On some of the ghat shores, such as the Harischandra Ghat, the funeral fires always keep burning.]<br /><br />Gopi Krishnan Kottoor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-waters-of-the-ganges/
