Neha Sharma
In waters jade and whispers deep,
Where river’s breath begins to sleep,
Barefoot souls with nets unfurled,
Dance quietly in a liquid world.
The sun has kissed their weathered skin,
While ripples hum a song within,
Each net a wing, mid-air it flies,
Like prayers cast to open skies.
A ballet of patience, art, and grace,
They vanish time, they slow its pace,
With hands that know the water’s song,
They’ve lived where quiet hearts belong.
Fish may flee or fate may bless,
But beauty lies in each soft guess—
In cast and pull, in hope and gleam,
In river’s flow and woven dream.