The river meandered across the slope
Ferrying down the silt
And sang to each civilization that dwelt
On the fertile plains it built.
The farmer fed the long furrows
With a smattering of seeds
Then tended to the crop he grew
Plucking out the weeds.
The potter scooped a fist of clay
And made it moist and soft
Then gave it shape on the turning wheel
And held it up aloft.
And the skies above witnessed it all
And this conclusion drew
“It’s not where you take things from
It’s where you take them to”.
P.S. The last two lines is a quotation from Jean-Luc Godard, that I read from a status update of a respected Malayalam Film Director, on Facebook.