Wet Sands Poem by Saroj Padhi

Don't know why I'm so strongly drawn
to the wet sands every eve and morn
where the grey-tailed tattlers hop in delight
before flying into mid-sky, for song and sojourn,
where little cormorants dive into unknown depths
for their routine catches,
dippers rise from troughs to go hopping on ridges,
swallows send musical notes from sand-bars and scrapes
and sand-pipers sing from the bridge's secret spaces;
water fowls shuffle and waddle like war-heroes
and grey herons come flying from far-off shores
for meditation beside shallows filled with eels and fishes;
sands under continual monsoon drizzles write
stories of love with every drop that river's heart touches,
and today as I tread a few miles along with the breeze
sand grains stick to feet reminding me of love's old oozes.