The destiny of a river

This poem is a response to Miss Tayyeba Irum‘s slow burning verse… On the banks of river


I am the river,
on the banks of which
stands an endless forest…
of fear, thirst, doubt,
hunger and darkness…

Wind, dew, rain, fog,
and even eyes that behold
contours and tangents…
pass through the dense
before they reach my doorstep.

They tell me,
beasts are my guards
and pines are the sage…
they are to look after me,
save me from intruders,
who misdirect or steer
in different directions…

I am told,
I am to walk along them,
if I am to reach
the farthest…
They have already figured,
it seems,
the outcome of all bends…

Like, how my each step
may play out, and
what would be the pace…
how on to my surroundings,
my flow will leave effect,
how each curve
will be making a difference…

But they miss seeing,
what is desired
by my heart…
uttered by each drop
that exists to make soul whole,
never misplaced…

The passion to break bonds
can never be understood
by those who keep perimeters.
And a desire to surrender,
can never be fulfilled
by the spectators.

Love me all you want,
adore me for my imperfections,
compliment me for my fierceness,
and accompany me to decorate a canvas…

But know this…
Rivers are meant not to be guarded,
they’re destined to merge into the ocean!

– Dedicated to the rivers…


Image Credits:

1. River Forest (wallpaper)
2. Ocean Waterfall (wallpaper)

The Midnight View

Midnight River (C)2009 Tracy McCabe Stewart.

Standing in my balcony today
I tried to feel the passion
of the slipping midnight.

There was no moon in sight,
nor was there the smell of
a night queen, or sound of
the leaves nudging each other
romantically in the wind.

Instead there was a chatter
of the men in the background,
playing cards and betting.
Fumes of garbage set on a fire,
and a pole of street light.

I was unable to see beyond.
The vision was restricted by
the next building,
standing tall in front
like a giant.

I saw flickering lights
inside the flats, and not
twinkling stars on the sky.
Smoke and ash covering surfaces,
and not mist and shine.

I don’t mind.
More a reason for me
to sink in your embrace,
my window to the beauty innate.
The view of a perfect midnight.

Feel the wind kissing the leaves,
as my fingers slide through your hair,
and current as I come closer to
curls of the river,
your body curves relate.

Your face – sparkling river in moonlight.
Your eyes – center of the gravity.
Your lips – an arc to carry me beyond.
Your heartbeat – drops falling from the clouds.
And your smell – scent of rain on dry earth.

Like a dream for a child,
Like a sport for the young.
Like a substance for an addict,
Like a meditation for the monk.
You’re a necessity for me.

I have to dream with you,
dance with you, be with you.
I got to stay intoxicated.

– Dedicated to the midnight lovers, aficionados of art and literature, and their wish for the dream ‘forever’… 🙂

Midnight Moon River - Karl Johnston

Note: Yes, the structure of the poem as usual is completely intentional.

Image Credits:
1. Midnight River (C)2009 Tracy McCabe Stewart (
2. Midnight Moon River – Karl Johnston (